It all starts with a single cell
by 4everYoung93
Summary: Charles and Erik find one more recruit before leaving for Russia to find Shaw. Can she help Erik find peace, before it's too late?
1. Prologue

Hey guys! Just a couple quick notes before I start:

First off, to anyone hoping to see Charik in this fic, sorry to disappoint. I love those two together, I just don't really know how to write it. Hence, the Erik/OC pairing. Easier for me to work with.

Secondly, to my readers hoping for an update on 'The Life and Times of Ivy Walker-Wayne', at the moment I've given up that story. I may come back to it but, I have yet to be struck by new inspiration. As you can see, I've been once again seduced by the Marvel side of the force. My apologies to DC- they had cookies, what was I supposed to do?

Third and finally, I own nothing. Because, if I did, Charles wouldn't have gotten shot, Erik wouldn't have gone psycho, and they would have all lived happily ever after with lots of Charik on top!

But alas, this is not to be...or is it? *thinks* No, it isn't.

Anyway, ON WITH THE FIC!

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><p>"Hey there baby, can I buy you a drink?"<p>

"Come on sweetheart, just one shot…"

"When do you get off? You wanna find a quiet place?"

_Every night…_

The waitress rolled her eyes, for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hour, before looking around for her latest contestant. As she caught sight of him, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle what would have been very cruel laughter. For the site that met her eyes was this; the guy was maybe in his late forties, early fifties. He was short and round, wearing a lopsided and decidedly dopey grin, as well as a plain gold wedding band he hadn't even thought to take off before propositioning her. His expression could only be described as a leer, his eyes glazed over from beer and lust.

General consensus: this guy was married, pathetic and very, very drunk.

Once she gave him a thorough once-over–which, in his intoxicated state, went completely unnoticed–she plastered on a fake-apologetic smile, and ran through her classic routine, for the thousandth time that night.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sugar! I really would love to, but my boss would be really mad if I cut out early. I wish I could, but I can't."

Cue a false pout for good measure, as if she really was sad she couldn't go off with an inebriated stranger.

"Aw, you're breakin' my heart here, doll. You sure? I promise I won't getcha in any trouble," he slurred out, trying in vain to change her mind.

"Sorry," she said, already turning to leave Mr. Lonely to his brew, "maybe another time, if you come back and see me."

And at that, she left him. Really, she had other tables to deal with. She didn't have the time or the patience to deal with one more booze-soaked cheater tonight.

As she had just collected Lonely's empty bottles when he had tried (and failed) to woo her, she made her way to the back to drop them in the bin. When she got back to the front, the bell over the door tinkled, signaling yet another customer had just come in. Scratch that, she thought, as she looked over. Two customers. Two young, incredibly_ handsome, _male customers. She let out a low whistle to herself. _Well, hello there, boys._

A shout of her name shook her from her reverie, as the objects of her study made their way to a booth in the back.

"Allicia!" called Bill from the other end of the counter. She whipped around, a bit dazed at the moment.

"What's up?"

He nodded toward the back of the house. "The two at table twenty –get on it."

Her gaze followed to the table he had indicated. Which happened to be seating the guys who had just walked in. And one of them, the taller of the two with short brown curls and the greenest eyes she had ever seen, was staring at her from across the room. When he saw the she had looked his way, he favored her with an enticing smile.

She turned back to Bill. "On it, boss," she quipped back with a smirk, before making her way over to the two hunks in the back.

_Well how about that, _she thought_, it's my lucky night after all…_


	2. Chapter 1

**What up!**

**Hey everyone, glad to see this story has a following already. No reviews yet, BUT that's not gonna stop me! Thank you very much to MusicxxxFreak, phantomwriter2006, and trueromatic333 for adding this to their Alert lists. Guys, this chapter goes out to you.**

**ON WITH THE FIC!**

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><p>Erik folded his arms over his chest as his eyes took in the sign above the bar.<p>

"Doc Holiday's Old-Fashioned Saloon," he read aloud. He fixed his companion with an amused smirk, "Really, Charles?"

The young Brit just looked at him innocently. "What?"

His friend rolled his eyes before saying, "First the gentleman's club, and now this place? What is it with the women you pick up through that machine of yours?"

Charles frowned for a minute before answering, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Erik"

The German huffed out a dry laugh at that, shaking his head at his friend.

"The first recruit was a stripper, for Christ's sake! What's this one going to be, a cowgirl?" he asked, his slightly-accented voice dripping with skepticism. There was no way in hell Charles was actually considering this girl. He couldn't _possibly_ be serious about this.

Oh, but he was.

"Come now, Erik, have an open mind. Looks can be deceiving," he said, the determined smile that always seemed to be there gracing his features as he made to push the door open. He led the way in, not initially seeing the interior as he said over his shoulder to his partner, "You never know my friend, she might just surprise us".

But the thought barely left his mouth, before he faced forward, finally seeing just what they were getting themselves into. And his bright smiling face promptly fell.

The place was packed; there were people everywhere! There were patrons standing by the jukebox, sitting at every table, at every seat at the bar, _dancing on the bar_ –it was a madhouse! The air was filled with aromas of fried food from the kitchen, loud country music, and even louder drunken thoughts.

The telepath already felt the beginnings of a headache coming on.

Erik took one look around, before looking smugly down at Charles.

"Oh yes, Charles, you're right. Looks can be _very_ deceiving. Whatever was I thinking? ," he asked, his tone pure sarcasm. He chuckled at the glare the young professor sent his way, before gesturing to the chaotic crowd in front of them.

_Lead the way, _he thought mockingly, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"Oh, shut up," Charles answered aloud, as he started to navigate toward a booth in the back. It was taken, but from what he gleaned from their thoughts, the people sitting there were just getting up to leave. They made their way over, occasionally sidestepping the odd sloshed woman who had seen them come in, offering apologies when her boyfriend or husband would snatch her away, shooting daggers at them both meanwhile. When they finally made it to their table, both men sank gratefully into their seats, thankful to be at least somewhat removed from the crowd.

_Let's just find this girl so we can get the hell out of here._

_Agreed. Just give me a minute to locate her, my friend._

And so, Charles set about scanning the crowd, looking for that one mind that felt familiar from his brief glimpse of it in Cerebro. His head was starting to pulse dully by about the tenth loop of lustful, hazy drunkeness that by the time he found her clear, unjumbled mind, he had to smile. Erik must have noticed, because he glanced questioningly at him.

_What?_

Charles just nodded in her direction, over behind the bar.

_There._

Erik followed his friend's gaze. Standing just behind the counter, talking to the bartender, was the girl they were looking for. At the moment, she was facing away from them, so he only really saw the back of her head, and so, he failed to see what Charles was smiling about.

_Just wait for it, _the telepath thought, _you'll see._

And see, he did. No sooner had he heard this, than he turned back to the bar, in time to see that the girl had turned around to look at them. Erik's jaw hit the table.

She was, in a word: _stunning_. She had dark brown hair that stopped just above her shoulders in a sassy flip, with bangs that framed her face. Her eyes –which were currently sweeping curiously over both him and Charles –were, if anything, darker; almost black and fringed with thick, curled lashes. Gold glinted off the hoops dangling from her ears and from the thin chain around her neck, which hung just enough to draw the eye to her rather –ahem –_ample _curves.

Unlike the other waitresses, however, she didn't show nearly that much skin. Her neckline wasn't so low it was indecent, and her midriff barely showed above the waist of her dark blue bell-bottoms. Of his assumptions, though, one thing was true; on her feet, well-worn with age, were a pair of tan leather cowboy boots.

She caught him staring and met his eyes, and he couldn't help it: he smiled – slowly, turning on the charm. She answered him with a little quirk of her full, red lips. When she turned back to say something to the bartender, he turned to Charles, who was looking over at him knowingly.

_I told you so._

It was Erik's turn to glare at him.

_Oh, shut up..._


	3. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! A few things, real quick:**

**First, a BIG thank-you to MusicxxxFreak and Poetgirl10 for their reviews, and again to Poetgirl10 for Alerting AND for giving me the idea to 'Cast' the story with pictures of the characters (the links to which can be found on my profile). So far there's just Allicia, but that **_**may**_** change (I'm not for sure on that just yet, so we'll see), so keep a look out for new pics.**

**Second, about ONE-HUNDRED and FIFTY people have read this so far! Now, I would be very impressed and happy about this. Notice I said **_**would be**_**. Why am I not? Because I've gotten exactly TWO reviews out of you guys. Come on, ya'll! You **_**know **_**you**** can do better than that. SO, with that in mind, we come to my third and final note-**

**REVIEW! I'm gonna try not to completely base my upload speed on the amount I get, but, come on; I need a little feedback here, guys. Just a little. Tell me if you like it, hate it, think it needs work, ANYTHING!**

**Please?**

**Okay, I'm done begging for gratification now-ON WITH THE FIC!**

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><p>Alicia worked her way into the throng of rowdy, country-lovin' regulars, most of whom were drunk off their asses and had issues acknowledging personal space. But she'd been working at Doc's for two years now; she was well used to it. She snaked through the horde like a pro, actually managing it in a strut –all swinging hips and bold confidence –up to the dreamboats in the back. When she reached them, they were both smiling at her, looking her up and down. She let them; sure, the older, so-blitzed-they-can't-even-remember-their-name types usual got nothing from her.<p>

But these guys? So far as she could see, they both had their wits about them –clearly, this had been their first stop of the night. Not to mention (though she had already lost track of all the times she had), they were both _gorgeous_.

One of them was a shorter, bookwormy type - dark brown waves that set a stark contrast against his pale skin, soft-looking pink lips, and round baby blues that almost seemed to twinkle, even in the dim light of the bar.

He seemed fairly young, and a bit too boyish for her tastes, but all the same, he wasn't bad to look at. Especially now, as he was smiling at her. He just seemed to exude warmth with that flash of teeth and curve of lip, like he was looking at an old friend when he saw her.

And then there was his pal – about a head taller, with sharper, more chiseled features. He had short curls, cut closer to his head and dark brown, like his friend's. What was most striking about him, though, were his eyes; they were a clear, bluish-green.

But unlike his friend's eyes, his did not twinkle. They didn't flicker with an unheard laugh, nor did they glow with an ever-present grin. If anything, they contained a scowl. A shadow of sorrow lurked behind them, even though the man they belonged to was presently smiling at her like his companion. He hid it well, but those narrowed jade irises told his story for him, to those few who cared to look for it.

He was a man haunted.

Of course, this thought only really got to her for a second, before she beamed at them both again, genuinely glad to serve them. Hell, they were better than most she had had to deal with that night. Might as well enjoy it.

"Hello there, boys," she greeted, in the false Southern drawl she usually used for work (Saloon, duh.), "Can I get ya'll somethin' to drink this evenin'?"

The shorter one looked to his friend, before saying, in the grooviest posh accent, "A pint of bitter for me and a vodka martini for my friend, here."

Allicia smiled contritely at them before she answered, "Aw, I'm sorry t' tell ya, honey, but we don't make none o' those fancy drinks 'round here. I can get ya that beer," she told Blue-eyes, "but the martini ain't gonna happen." She looked to Green-eyes, who was frowning at her now, before she continued, "Got a second choice I could get for ya?"

He was obviously irritated, as was evidenced from the tense set of his jaw, but he did his best not to let it show. He looked at his British buddy, an unspoken question seeming to pass between them, before he faced her again, his expression somewhat softer as he spoke.

"Scotch on the rocks?" he asked, his voice carrying the hints of an accent as well, though she couldn't quite place it.

Her lips curved slowly up into an alluring smirk as she nodded to him, glad she didn't have to shoot him down twice.

"Now that, I can do, sugah," she said, "I'll be right back with those for ya."

With that she turned, making sure to walk with that same sway of her hips –guys didn't just pay for the drinks, she made sure they got a show too (repeat business, hello) –and weaved her way back up to the bar.

*roses* -^- *roses* -^- *roses* -^-

As the waitress took their drink order up to the bartender, Charles caught a glimpse of Erik's rather preoccupied thoughts, and let out a light chuckle.

_Enjoying the view, are we?_

Erik was thrown roughly back into reality at that, shaking his head to clear it before looking over at Charles, who had _the cheekiest _grin plastered to his face.

_You know, if you keep your face like that long enough, it'll freeze that way, _he quipped back silently, pointedly avoiding the other's remark. His friend only smiled wider at him, trying visibly not to laugh at him full out. He glowered at him.

_Oh be quiet, will you?_

_But I'm not actually saying anything, my friend. _Even his mental voice shook with giggles._  
><em>

_Stop it, Charles._

_Stop what, Erik? _

_Stop this._

_What? _

_This!_

_What! Honestly, I haven't a clue what you mean._

_What are you, five?_

_Six, actually._

Erik palmed his forehead with an exasperated groan. Charles laughed out loud.

"Oh, lighten up, won't you? I was only teasing, my friend. Nothing was meant by it."

Erik only crossed his arms over his chest in response, burning a hole into the table with his eyes.

"Erik..."

"..."

"Erik?"

"..."

_Erik, please, come on...I'm sorry. It was only a joke, my friend._

...

_I do apologize for taking it too far..._

Erik gave a mental sigh at that, as well as a vocal one.

_It's fine._

Charles smiled brightly at him, happy he was forgiven.

_Oh, good! For a moment I really believed you weren't going to speak to me the rest of the night. Thank you._

He got a mere shrug in response.

_Yes, well, anyway...Have you figured out what it is that she can do? How much did Cerebro show you, exactly? Is she going to be useful?_

_Actually yes, and I'm glad you asked. You see, while I wasn't able to get a true read on her while using Hank's device-there were _hundreds _of other minds all coming to me at once, you understand- I have been able to look through some of her more recent memories to get a sense of what we're dealing with, here. I've never seen anything quite like her before. _Charles thoughts were so awash with enthusiasm he was bordering on giddy. This got Erik's attention; he straightened a little in his seat, his mind on Charles while his eyes found the girl. When he got nothing else from the telepath, he sent a question through their mental link.

_So? What did you find?_

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><p><strong>CLIFFY! <strong>

**I know, I know, I'm evil. But you know what? Too bad!**

**If you want the rest of this chapter, you know what you have to do...**

**Review!  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 3

**Hey Ya'll!**

**First off, sorry for the long gap in updates. I was out of town for a couple days, and of **_**course**_**, there was no computer available, let alone internet. Low-tech, much? Anyway, I had to work the old fashioned way (ink and paper) to get this chapter out, so no one can say I wasn't still working!**

**Second, thank you to trueromantic333 and Vintage-Wonder for reviewing the last chapter, as well as to izzie22, moviegal101, Twilightstar7, caseylu, Shockin'BlueEyes, and trickst3r-97 for adding this story to their Alert lists, and also to those who have Favorited! You have no idea how much that makes my day! It's great to see folks have an interest in this one .**

**Third and finally (I'm almost done, I swear!), I… *checks* Yep, I still own nothing. *sigh* So sad…**

**ON WITH THE- ya know what, I'm just gonna shut up, now…**

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><p>Erik blinked a few times, not entirely sure he'd heard right.<p>

"…Care to run that by me again, Charles?"

His friend had to resist the urge to sigh at the question, as he had been very clear, he'd thought.

"She's a healer, Erik," he said in a low voice; while he wanted to be sure they weren't overheard, they had started to get strange looks all throughout their 'staring contest' of a conversation earlier. Best to make use of his telepathy sparingly, so as not to attract any unwanted attention to themselves. As it was, it appeared they already stuck out like sore thumbs, being the obvious foreigners that they were.

Ah, well, back to the task at hand.

His friend, while mentally with him, had fixed his visual attention on their current prospective recruit, who was at the moment going to relay their drink order to the bartender – her employer, in fact, as he then came to find. Erik was sizing her up, trying to get a general read on her through his (highly impressive) skills of people watching, while Charles skimmed over the contents of her mind, to dig just a bit deeper.

"She's not had a lot of opportunities to practice, though I suppose that's a good thing," Charles mused, letting his voice trail off. But at his comment, Erik looked over at him, a crease forming between his brows.

"How is that a good thing, Charles? I mean, healing would certainly be of use, but if she can't practice, how is she to control it? To really know what she can do? She probably has no idea as to what she's truly even capable of," he said, irritation starting to creep into his tone. Charles noticed this, of course, and tried to placate his partner's concerns.

"No, I think you misunderstand, my friend. What I meant is that, for her to practice there would have to be somebody sick or wounded for her to try her powers on, correct?" Erik nodded, and so Charles continued.

"Since she hasn't had such opportunities, it would stand to reason that she's at least not had the misfortune of finding any sick or wounded people during her day-to-day activities. Not to mention, she hasn't resorted to testing her gifts on herself through self-mutilation. So, at least we know that she is in her right mind, and won't resort to extremes to push her limits," he concluded, finally. And he was right; Erik hadn't really thought of that.

"I see your point," he replied, looking back over at the girl, studying her. She was definitely not something he'd been expecting, although he seemed to be right about her being a cowgirl. Which was something he really hated being right about at the moment. He turned to the telepath, who was rubbing his left temple as though to dispel a headache; Erik knew better, though.

"So," he asked, wanting to know more, "what else have you gotten so far?"

"Well," Charles said, lowering his hand now, to better focus on the conversation, "Her name is Allicia Picone. She's a Brooklyn native –Sicilian bloodlines, it seems –so the accent you're so worried about is entirely put on, by the by," he said with another cheeky grin, to which Erik responded with only a scowl. Charles kept on, undeterred, "She's been working here for the past two years, though she honestly seems to detest the place, really. She loathes drunken customers who try to flirt with her, and it's a rather regular occurrence, so that's the reason for that, I would imagine. But, the most interesting thing is that she's already got a good amount of combat training under her belt- nothing formal, of course, mostly street fights and the like. But none the less, it'll come in very handy, I'm sure."

Erik was pleasantly surprised by all of this. A fighter from Brooklyn, and a woman, at that? Not bad, not bad at all. And thank whatever God was that paying attention that the Southern thing was an act. Any longer with that drawn-out drawl would have broken the German's hopes on this one, and it was rare he had much hope for people to begin with.

This Allicia Picone could be just the thing they needed to bring their team together.

**Meanwhile…**

As expected, it had taken her a minute or two to navigate her way back to the counter through the _riot_ that was Doc's on a Friday night. She had had to field more advances from Lonely Clones, as she called them, and even almost came to blows with one fella who had been just a bit too _handsy_ for her liking. However, thanks to his extremely irate (and extremely trashed) girlfriend, Allicia had been able to keep right on walking, and made it back to the counter just in time to hear the telltale _CRACK _of hand-on-cheek over the swing of the jukebox. She couldn't help but chuckle under her breath at that.

_Some cats just never learn to stay with their kittens, _she thought, shaking her head.

She couldn't see Bill anywhere, so of _course_, that meant she had to wait to get Yummy 1 and Yummy 2 their orders until he was finished in the kitchen or wherever he had disappeared to.

But, that didn't mean she had to be bored about it now, did it?

Leaning her elbows back on the bar, she resigned herself to her favorite hobby: People watching. Starting with the guys she'd just left.

Where to begin with these two…

They both seemed to be tourists, if their accents were anything to go by. The younger of the two was obviously English, and, as previously stated, she suspected he was a brain. A college boy, from the way he was dressed –Oxford, or maybe Cambridge. No tan, so he must spend a lot of time indoors –studying, probably. His wide azure eyes held no hardship that could really be seen; at least, not like his friend's. His softer, more rounded features spoke of an easy lifestyle. He was wearing a pair of what looked to be Italian leather loafers –which would be _incredibly_ pricey if they were the genuine article –and a brown tweed jacket (what was it with Brits and tweed?) over a cream colored button-down and tie, which (if the shoes were real) was most likely silk. Add to that the fact that he had ordered not only for himself, but for his friend as well. That usually meant one of two things; either (a. they were just that close, as it seemed they were, or (b. he was picking up the tab. She suspected both were true, but that last little tidbit made sense of all her other observations. Ol' Blue-Eyes had deep pockets.

Interesting…

And then there was the older one. His accent was a bit tricky, but if she had to guess, it hinted at German. Where his companion's skin was fair, his was bronzed from time spent outside, his jaw squared and his high cheekbones making his face a brilliant composition of angles and planes. His eyes were narrowed, always watching, alert to every movement in his line of sight –the gaze of a hunter. But what, or who, was his prey? He showed no outward signs of tension, to the untrained eye, but she could see he was coiled tighter than a spring; his shoulders were set, his back straight and stiff. Just what had him so wound up, she wondered…

All these signs, mixed with the chocolate leather jacket and the tight black turtleneck that clung to a lean, whipcord physique, suggested this man could be summed up in one word.

Dangerous.

Now, for most people, this would be about the point where they start to hear little alarm bells in the back of their mind, telling them to stay back, approach with caution. But Allicia? She always had been more curious than cautious.

And honestly, there was just something about these two. They were…different. For one thing, how did two men, who by all accounts seemed to be polar opposites, end up as friends who went out for drinks on Friday night? And considering how late it was by now, how on _Earth_ was _this place_ their first stop of the night? It was odd, but strangely intriguing. And she found herself more anxious now to find Bill, and get their bloody drinks, if only for the excuse of chatting them up for a bit so as to learn more. At the very least, she had to find out their names before they left.

Making that her mission for the night, she turned again to look for her currently M.I.A., boss. He was right where he was supposed to be, drawing pints from the tap for some Joe Schmoe at the other end of the counter.

_Huh, must've come back without me seeing, _she figured, _about time, too._

"Yo, Bill!" she called, over the customers trying get his attention as well. Thankfully, he heard her the first time.

"Whatcha need, Al?"

"A pint o' beer and a scotch on the rocks, and make it quick, huh? I got thirsty customers waitin'!"

He gave her a quick thumbs-up. "You got it!"

Now content that her job was, for the moment, being done, Allicia turned back to the barroom again, eyes scanning the crowd for anybody else noteworthy. But nobody could succeed in taking her mind off of her newest subjects of interest. Her eye always seemed to be drawn right back of it's own volition.

To the two in the back.


	5. Chapter 4

**I'm Baaaaack!**

**Hey guys! I managed to get struck by that flighty mistress Inspiration tonight (or this morning. It really depends how you look at it. **_**Any**_**way…), and so here it is, the latest chapter. Ta-da! Just a couple things, first, though:**

**One - Thank you's. BIG thanks go to ladygagagirl for her review last chapter, as well as to the ever-loyal Vintage-Wonder. You guys are awesome! Also, to everyone who has added this to their Alert lists, as always. The number is growing every day and I **_**love**_** that! **

**Two - We have broken the 700 mark for readers of this story. SQUEE! But, sadly, we have only eight reviews. Hmm… **

**Curious, very curious…**

**Three - I have yet to acquire the funds necessary to gain the rights to the X-Men franchise, and all characters and plot points therein. Thus, I still, regrettably, own nothing…Yet…**

**(Insert segue into the fic here)**

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><p>"Hey Al, comin' to you!"<p>

The waitress looked over just in time to catch the glasses sliding down the counter with a practiced ease. She nodded a thank you to Bill and set them on a tray, then set about the (seemingly impossible) task of merging into the crowd of customers, _once again, _this time carrying aforementioned tray, and all without spilling a drop of alcohol.

_Piece of cake, _she thought, as she made it to the back booth. She flashed the two men settled there a dazzling smile and handed over their drinks.

"There ya' go, boys**. **Hope I didn't keep ya'll waitin' too long," she remarked, leaning slightly on the edge of the table. They both shook their heads, relaxed expressions gracing both their features as they glanced up at her.

The Uni Boy (for want of a better nickname) grinned his owned megawatt grin, chuckling a little as he did so, before saying sweetly, "Not at all, Miss…?"

_Ah, the name game…_

"Alli," she replied, Southern twang still firmly ruling her tone, "Ya'll can call me Alli."

At this, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy, surprisingly, spoke up.

"Alli, huh? Wouldn't happen to be short for Allicia, now, would it?" He asked, seeming to all the world politely curious. But his eyes…

Now she heard the bells.

Nobody ever guessed her name on the first shot. They always just assumed that Alli was her name, or, if they did figure out it was a nickname, they always guessed Allison, or Alice. She let them think what they would, but she never corrected them. She never told anyone her real name was Allicia, not Alli, or Ally, or Allison, or Alice. It was something customers didn't need to know. A way to keep her job and the rest of her life separate, so she could clearly compartmentalize the two. It was just easier like that.

So how did he know…

But this was stupid – it was probably just a lucky guess, nothing more than beginner's –

"It's not a guess, Ms. Picone." Her eyes shot to Blue Eyes, who had spoken with an only slightly lowered, more serious voice. But he was still smiling at her, still at ease.

Allicia, however, was not.

"How do you know my name," she demanded, fire in her eyes, fake accent vanished, and all thoughts of playing this cool completely gone, now. As an after-thought, she added, "And just who the hell are you two, anyway?"

"Well, as to your second question, I'm Charles Xavier," replied the younger of the two cordially, looking to his friend, who added, "Erik Lehnsherr," before he continued on, "and as to your first question, if you'd just hear us out, we can explain it to you."

"Oh, like hell," she snarled, not that anyone noticed –the mayhem of the packed house more than drowned her out. She made to walk away, intent on alerting Rick and Johnny by the door to throw these guys out on their asses, but something stopped her. All of a sudden she couldn't move –something was literally _pulling her back!_

Upon closer examination, she realized it was her _belt_, of all things.

"What the-?"

She whipped around, glaring accusingly at the two strangers she had not a minute earlier been close to drooling over, when she noticed…

The one guy –Charles, or so he said–was looking from his friend to her and back, with something akin to exasperation (in his friend's case) and panic (in Allicia's) on his once calm face, while the other one –Erik…Whatever-that-last-part-was –seemed almost, bored, though his once brooding was gaze alight with what could've quite possibly been amusement. That was when she saw.

His hand.

He had both elbows up on the table, forearms out in front of him, one hand curled around his glass of scotch and the other…Reaching. Across the table.

Reaching out to her.

Oh.

_Oh…_

Realization crashed down on her in that moment.

Why these guys seemed so different. Why she had been drawn to them from the minute they walked in the door. She had been sensing sit this whole time, but she couldn't nail down what it was or why it was there. Now she understood.

What was that thing that Nona had always said?

_Kind knows kind._

She couldn't do anything but gape, open-mouthed, at the men she saw before her. There were few moments in her life where she could honestly say it, but she was at a complete and utter loss for words. Charles must have seen the knowledge in her, for he simply smiled again, nodding his head ever so slightly, confirming her suspicions. Erik, taking her stunned silence to mean she wasn't going to bolt for the door, pulled his hand back; she felt herself stumble a little, as if someone had been holding her back and then decided to let her go. Her gaze went to her belt, and then back to Erik. He shrugged, favoring her with a smirk.

This was about the moment that she got her voice back.

"Holy shit."

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><p><strong>Yep, another cliffy. Wanna see what happens next? Just click the magic button -ya know, the one that says 'Review this chapter'...<strong>

**Till Next Time :)  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 5

**Yo!**

**Yes, I'm back, with yet another chapter! Yay! Thanks again to ladygagagirl and Vintage-Wonder for reviewing; to everybody who has Favorited (is that a word…? I think it is a word!); and to everybody who has Alerted. You guys, however few and far between you may be, are awesome. And so, I dedicate this to you all, and remind any new readers: REVIEW!**

**Please?**

***whispering like the Joker* And, here…we…**

**Go.**

* * *

><p>Erik chuckled.<p>

"How eloquent," he commented dryly, finding Allicia's reaction to his display of power quite comical. At first, she had done nothing but stare at them, mouth wide open in a perfect "O". But eventually, she got her senses back long enough to utter the only phrase that adequately summed up her feelings regarding the situation. This, of course, had prompted Erik's aforementioned sarcastic remark.

That was mistake Number One.

One minute, he had been laughing at her confusion, and the next he was being hauled to his feet by the collar of his jacket. Now, normally, this wouldn't have been a problem for the semi-retired Nazi hunter, but unfortunately –for Erik, at least –he had broken two _very_ important personal rules; (1. Never let your guard down, and (2. _Never_. Underestimate. Your opponent.

_That_ was mistake Number _Two._

"_What did you just say to me?" _Allicia hissed, practically nose-to-nose with the metal bender.

_Schiesse__!_

Erik couldn't really believe what was happening at the moment; the woman in front of him was fisting the lapels of his jacket, holding him in front of her face, and was so close he could almost see the sparks flying in her dark brown eyes. Angry, at this point, was hardly the word to describe her.

Fucking _pissed_, however, seemed plenty appropriate.

"Miss Picone, please!" Charles cried, imploring her to see reason, "please, you must be ca-"

"If you tell me to be calm, I will _pound_ you, pretty-boy!" she spat at him.

"I'm pretty sure she's beyond reasoning with at this point, Charles."

Mistake Number Three.

With that, she refocused her attention on Erik. "Oh, I'll show you just how _beyond reason_ I am, if you say another word, pal."

"Really?"

"Really."

Charles sighed. He really hadn't wanted to do this.

_STOP!_

At once, all was still. Allicia, Erik, and the whole rest of the bar froze where they stood, the two mutants by then stuck glaring heatedly at each other.

_What the hell?_

_Charles?_

In response to Allicia's unspoken confusion, the telepath addressed her nonverbally.

_Firstly, Miss Picone, I'm truly sorry to have to use my abilities this way, but to be perfectly honest, I am not going to allow you to destroy the current arrangement of my friend's face. Especially since attempting to do so would more than likely result in your being injured, and that's not why we're here, you see._

Since she was frozen, her face couldn't register what she thought of this statement, but as Charles' mind was tuned in to hers, the questions she wanted answered came through loud and clear, anyway.

_Then why the hell ARE you here? What, are you with the government or something? What do you want with me, and how do you know who I am? And why can't I move? _

_If I let both you and Erik free, will you hear us out? We'll happily answer any questions you have, provided you remain calm._

_What do you mean, 'let us free'? You're the one doing this?_

_Yes._

_You're in my head?_

_In a manner of speaking, yes. You have your tricks, we have ours. You can heal people, correct?_

_Yeah, how did you-_

_Did you truly believe you were the only one of your kind, Allicia?_

She thought for a moment, and if her expression could've shown, it would have relaxed somewhat, curious.

_My kind, huh? I always wondered if there were others…Others who were –_

_Different, _they chorused. Charles smiled at that. She was finally getting it.

_Um, Charles? _

It was at this point that Charles remembered Erik was there, too.

_Yes, Erik?_

_I hate to interrupt, but would you mind unfreezing us, now? Or have you not finished just yet?_

_Oh! _

While he had been communicating with Allicia, the telepath had completely forgotten that he had frozen them both, not to mention everybody else.

_Of course my friend, I'm terribly sorry about that. Just a moment._

_Sure, _Erik replied sarcastically, _by all means, take your time._

Charles rolled his eyes at him, before facing the barroom at large. Only after he had made certain that the beginnings of the almost-fight between his friend and their waitress had been wiped clean from the surrounding minds, did he see fit to release everyone. Once Allicia was able to move again, she let Erik go, looking a little less angry than she had been, and even apologetic.

"Sorry about that," she said, brushing off the front of his jacket for him, "Guess I got a little carried away, there. I just don't like people who seem to know too much. Usually a good enough reason to be suspicious of them. I figured you two were with the Feds."

"Well actually," Charles said aloud, "we are currently affiliated with the government, at least for the time being. We don't plan on it staying that way for long, though."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me and my friend, here," Erik answered, determined to have a more active role in this, "as well as a team we are in the process of putting together. A team we were hoping you would join, as a matter of fact. That's why we're here."

She eyed him warily, still not entirely trusting him. "And just how many people are on this team of yours?"

Charles chimed in again. "Six others, apart from us, along with several agents of the CIA but, as I've said, we don't foresee a future working alongside them permanently."

_Wow, small team, _she thought, before asking, "And you want me to join, huh?"

"Yes, we think your ability would prove invaluable, but it's entirely your choice, of course," the young Brit assured her, "we won't force you into anything."

Allicia deliberated this new information for a minute, turning it all over in her head. They wanted her to join their team. What they did, exactly, was a mystery to her, but all the same, it was intriguing. They _were _working with the Feds, but from the looks of things, these two were alone at the moment, or else she probably would have been stopped from almost jumping Erik –by a lot of suits with guns, no doubt. Instead, Charles had been the one to intervene, so it looked like they had been left to handle their business without Uncle Sam's help. But then, where were these other six, if they weren't here with them? Were they…different, too?

Charles seemed to pick up on that.

"Yes, Allicia, they are. They are like us –like you. Mutants, to put it simply."

"Mutants?"

"Yes, people who can do things that others cannot. Like, you, for instance; able to repair wounds of the flesh and relieve illnesses without knowing why or how you're able to do so. It's a genetic mutation –the key to human evolution."

"Huh. Never knew there was a word for it –for what I could do –although, it's not just healing, ya know. It's…it's more than that. It's like; I can _feel_ other people, all around me. Their bodies, I mean. I can sense them," she paused, trying to gauge their reactions, before adding with a laugh, "If that makes any sense to you two."

Charles seemed astounded by this; he definitely hadn't picked _that_ up in her memories, that was for sure. Erik seemed rather curious about this new development; Charles hadn't mentioned anything…

_I didn't know, _Charles told him silently. _I wonder how she does that…_

_Well, we can always ask McCoy to figure it out in his lab later, _Erik answered back. As _fun _as this night had been, he still wanted to get out of here. _Right now, we still have yet to find out if she's with us or not._

_Patience, Erik._

The German merely snorted in reply, much to Allicia's confusion. And annoyance.

"What's so funny?" she snapped.

The pair looked up at her, not understanding her question at first, before they both remembered she hadn't heard them.

"Nothing, my dear," Erik said, not wanting to aggravate her again –not that he had minded being so close to her before, but he rather liked his face the way it was, thank you. "Private joke, is all. But, we're getting away from the subject at hand."

"Which is what, again?"

"Our team," he began, cutting to the chase, "Are you in or out?"

She thought about it, her head still full of questions. She decided that some of them could wait, but first, she had to know the basics of what they were asking her.

"What about my job?" she asked Erik, figuring he would get down to brass tacks.

"Quit."

"My apartment? How long would I be gone?"

"Indefinitely."

"Where would I be going?"

"Can't say."

"Why not?"

"You haven't given us an answer yet."

"And if I say no?"

He didn't miss a beat.

"Then you get to go back to your normal life of waiting tables and pouring shots six nights a week, all for a bunch of drunks who want nothing more than to get in your pants. We go away, and you never hear from us again. And meanwhile, we probably won't be successful in our mission to avert a second Holocaust because we didn't have your skills, not to mention your mutation, to help," He smirked, shrugging, as he continued nonchalantly, "But, as my friend here has already said, it's up to you. Stay here in a dead end job for shitty pay, or come help us save the world."

A challenge danced in his eyes as they bored into hers.

"Your choice."

Well, there really was nothing else she needed to hear after that, was there? Besides, these guys seemed like her kind of people. She flashed a smirk to rival Erik's own as she made her decision.

"Wait here," she said, picking up her forgotten drink tray and practically sprinting to the bar to find Bill. Erik and Charles exchanged a questioning look, before following her through the crowd with their eyes and, in Charles' case, his mind.

It took about a minute to realize what she was up to. Even from where they were sitting, they began to hear shouting coming from the other end of the room. Charles started laughing.

"What?" Erik asked.

"She's just taking your advice a bit faster than I thought, is all, my friend," he said, his voice shaking cheerily.

"My advice..? Charles, what are you-?"

"Come on, boys," Allicia yelled over the din, motioning them to the door, "Time to go!"

Erik looked at Charles, bewildered, but got nothing in reply. Charles simply took enough to pay for their drinks out of his wallet and dropped it on the table, before making his way to the door as she had told them. Erik could see nothing for it but to follow.

When they all got to the door, he couldn't take it any longer.

"So?" he asked, "Are you in?"

Their newest recruit smirked at him again.

"I'm in."

* * *

><p>Once they were outside, she separated from the two of them and headed across the parking lot, to what Erik assumed was her car. This, then, accounted for his shock when he heard the roar of what sounded suspiciously like a <em>motorcycle<em> coming to life.

When he turned in the direction of that gorgeous noise, his heart stopped.

Across the lot, sitting astride a shining 1958 Harley Davidson Sportster, was Allicia. She had just donned a helmet and tied a black bandanna around the lower half of her face, so he couldn't see her clearly, but there was no one else it could be. She looked completely in her element, revving the engine once for show, before riding up next to them at the entrance of the parking lot.

"I'll see you both at the base in about three days!" Her yelling over the purr of the bike snapped Erik back to reality. And no, he most definitely had _not_ been drooling.

"Excellent!" Charles called back, grinning, "Till then, it was a pleasure meeting you!"

"You too, Charles! Erik!"

And with that, she waved at them both, winked at Erik, and revved the engine again, peeling out of the lot and off into the night.


	7. Chapter 6

**Hiya!**

**So, okay, I guess my last chapter didn't go over as well as I had hoped, considering the fact that not ONE person reviewed! Not even my near-regular correspondents, ladygagagirl and Vintage-Wonder *sad face* Et tu, you guys? Frankly, I'm a little hurt, I'm not gonna lie.**

**BUT, as I've stated before, I'm not gonna let that stop me! I really don't care at this point if no one reads this, it's beginning to take on a life of it's own (IT'S ALIVE!), so I'm pretty sure I couldn't stop writing, now, even if I wanted to. Sooooo, with that in mind, here's Chapter Six! Hope you like it, readers (if you're still reading, that is. Fingers crossed!)**

**(in a voice like Linguini from 'Ratatouille') **

**So, Let's DO THIS THING!**

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><p><em>Three days later…<em>

* * *

><p>Agent Smith was growing impatient.<p>

"Are you sure she said today, Charles?" he asked for the nth time, in regards to the seventh and final member of their newly formed 'special unit' (fondly christened 'Division X').

The member who was, at the moment, still not at base –much to the Agent's irritation.

Charles sighed heavily; he was starting to get tired of repeatedly answering this question. He nodded, once again, before reiterating what their last recruit had told him.

"She said it would be roughly a three day trip to get here –it's now been three days. Ergo, she should be arriving sometime within the day, if not, later this evening. Although, to be honest, considering her mode of transportation, it's nearly impossible to be sure that she'll make it on time."

Smith huffed in annoyance, muttering under his breath, "Still don't know why she couldn't have just flown here…"

Try to understand, Agent Smith was typically a very accommodating man, under ordinary circumstances. However, lately, things in his department had been _far_ from "business as usual".

The facility as currently playing host to six young mutants, two of whom were still in their late teens, and the rest of whom were barely old enough, let alone mature enough, to be considered responsible adults (with the possible exceptions of Hank and Darwin). This fact, disorienting enough in its own right, was causing quite some tension among the agents working on base, who weren't hiding their apprehension toward the situation well _at all._

Add to _that_ the fact that Director McCone was incessantly breathing down his neck, constantly demanding updates on the Sebastian Shaw case they were all supposed to be working on, a case which was much harder to solve than they had originally thought. Especially considering the fact that all of their team _still_ hadn't shown up yet!

All in all, it was a LOT for one man to juggle all at once; enough, certainly, to make even the most even tempered of men just a _tad_ impatient, wouldn't you agree?

Which was why Allicia's growing absence on the day she was scheduled to arrive was putting severe strain on his already-tested nerves. As if he didn't have enough to worry about already.

Moira, who was sitting in the facility's spacious lobby along with Charles, Erik, and Agent Smith, was also beginning to wonder about the most recent addition to the team. It was nearly four-thirty already, and yet there had been no sign of the woman all day. It was all a bit odd, truth be told, and more than a little disappointing –Moira had been so looking forward to having another woman on board with them, and closer to her in age, as well. Raven and Angel were both wonderful in their own right, but they were still so young.

Plus, since Moira was the only human in their 'Division' (apart from Smith, that is), she couldn't really relate to the girls all that well. It made conversation rather difficult, which was really quite frustrating. The lone female agent sighed, staring out the window before her, hoping to catch a glimpse of headlights that would signal that this Allicia Picone had finally shown up.

_If she's even still coming at all, _Moira thought doubtfully.

Suddenly, she heard Charles voice fill her mind.

_Have faith, Moira. The day is young, after all –she could still make it before tonight._

She had to fight the urge to jump at the abrupt intrusion; communicating telepathically was still something she was getting used to. She looked over to where he was situated opposite her in the little half-circle of easy chairs and sofas that made up the lobby. He was sitting with one leg resting on the other, reclining in one of the cushy leather chairs and looking the picture of pleasantness, as if he was content to wait all night if he had to for this mystery woman to get here.

"How is it you're so sure about her, Charles? I mean, you never know, do you –she could have very well changed her mind about helping us," Moira speculated. She shrugged, pondering aloud, "Who knows? Maybe she decided it wasn't worth her time. Maybe it seemed a little too intense for her tastes; I mean, we are dealing with the threat of nuclear war, here, not to mention a man bent on global genocide. That's a lot to swallow, even for the toughest of people."

Charles looked ready to argue her (admittedly valid) points, before Erik, unexpectedly, beat him to it.

"Unlikely," he said, "Considering we watched her quit her job to join us. And anyway, you didn't see this girl. She hardly seems the type to back down from a fight, and going up against Shaw, she's sure to get one," he concluded, effectively stunning Moira into silence; that was probably the most she had ever heard the stoic loner say, let alone to her, of all people.

In an effort to diffuse the awkward silence that had descended upon them following Erik's impromptu defense of their new (and still M.I.A) recruit, Charles added, "He's quite right, actually. Miss Picone is stubborn and willful by nature, not to mention utterly fearless, by all accounts." He chuckled, recalling how he had had to rescue his friend from her clutches when they had met her only days ago.

"You should have seen how _well_ she and Erik got on after he showed her his gift, Moira. It was really quite something, wasn't it, my friend?" he asked, posing this question with that insufferably smug grin plastered on his face. Erik scowled, both at him, and at the memory. He could feel the flush of embarrassment creeping over his face at the thought.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Charles," he ground out, pointedly avoiding his friends eyes, which at the moment were alight with laughter.

Moira and Agent Smith exchanged a glance, both getting the feeling they were missing something.

"Yeah, what are you talking about Charles?" Moira asked.

The young professor opened his mouth to answer her, but was effectively cut off by a distant, vaguely familiar rumbling, fast approaching and getting louder by the second.

"What's that sound?" asked the Senior Agent, who had stood and was now making his way to the window to investigate. Upon seeing a leather-clad figure on a motorbike parked outside, his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "And who is **_that_**?" he asked incredulously.

Charles stood as well, making his way to the door and motioning for the others to follow. He couldn't help but smile, reaching out with his telepathy to confirm that, yes, their guest had, indeed, (finally) arrived.

As he walked, he replied, "That, Agent Smith, is the woman we've been waiting for. Miss Picone," he called, causing her head to swivel in his direction, "Welcome!"

She didn't say anything back at first, owing to the need to divest herself of her helmet and bandanna, and to remove her duffel from one of the side saddle-bags of her bike. Once she had everything in its proper place, though, she waved to them all, making her way up the walk to meet them half-way. Her face shown with a radiant smile as she shook the hand that Charles had been all too keen to offer.

"Thanks, it's good to see you again, Charles," she said, before noticing Erik was with him. She raised her chin at him in greeting, her grin never faltering. "Hey, there, Erik," she said, holding out her hand, "how are ya'? Fine, I hope."

For a minute he just stared at her proffered hand warily, recalling their last meeting with a certain measure of discomfort. Not to be discouraged, however, Allicia called him out.

"Aw, come on now, you're not still mad at me for almost messing up that pretty face of yours, are you?" she asked, her hand still extended between them, waiting for him to take it.

Charles hastily managed to turn what would have been a rather undignified snort into a more socially acceptable cough, which earned him questioning glances from both Moira and Agent Smith (who were already curious enough as to whether or not this statement actually held water).

Erik shot the telepath a look, having caught his reaction, anyway.

_It's __**not**__ funny, Charles._

The Brit had the decency to look sheepish at the thought, feeling guilty for finding amusement at his friend's expense.

_I'm sorry, Erik. It just sort of slipped._

Before their silent conversation could go any further, they were interrupted by Allicia, who, by the way, was still waiting for Erik to forgive her for almost clobbering him the last time the saw each other.

"Um, you _aren't _still mad at me, are you?" she asked, starting to feel uncomfortable about the whole thing all over again. This managed to snap Erik out of it. He shook his head to clear it, before smirking his signature smirk (patent pending) at her.

"Not at all," he said, slowly reaching to shake her hand. He wasn't surprised to learn she had a fairly firm grip.

She smiled then, and Erik felt a strange surge of pride knowing he had been the one to put it there.

"Good," she replied, before asking, "So, bygones?"

He nodded.

"Bygones."

"Great," she said, grinning.

Moira and Agent Smith, meanwhile, had been openly and unabashedly gawping at this strange woman who, they were shocked to learn, would be a part of their team. This, of course, explained their delayed reactions as she extended her hand in greeting to both of them in turn.

"Hi, there," she addressed, still beaming at them both in excitement, "Allicia Picone. Nice to meet you."


	8. Chapter 7

**I'm Back!**

**So, I know this chapter is a long time in coming; again, I was out of town, and couldn't reach a computer. Luckily, however, I always keep a notebook on hand, and so, I was still working (albeit via ink-and-paper). **

**Couple things, real quick: **

**First, a new reviewer has joined the ranks –Piezelle, thank you so much for your words of encouragement. They made my day, not to mention brought the review count to lucky number 13. Awesome! I'm glad you like the story so far.**

**Second, we have broken the 2,000 hit mark, people! Yay *shoots off one of those little confetti poppers*! This blows my mind, thank you all for your interest in this one, I'm so happy everyone likes it.**

**Third and finally, this is gonna be the springboard chapter that starts to set up the changes and AU-ness that we all love (because, honestly, if we were content with the established universes of various fictional worlds, this site wouldn't exist). Not giving anything away, though; you'll just have to read on and see what I did! Mwuahahaha! (Evil author laughter; yeah, it's kind of a work in progress…)**

**Currently on 'It All Starts With A Single Cell'…**

* * *

><p>The tour of the facility that followed Allicia's arrival passed by rather quickly, as both Moira and Agent Smith had to make a meeting with Director McCone, to seek clearance to bring Charles, Erik, and the rest of their team along to Russia to help nab Shaw. At present, the three of them –Allicia, Erik, and Charles –were idling in the hallway outside of a small conference room, awaiting the Director's verdict.<p>

Charles was standing off to one side of the door, hands in his pockets as a way of discouraging himself from "eavesdropping" on the humans' conversation. Allicia leaned casually against the wall opposite him, content to wait, although admittedly kind of annoyed that they were being excluded from the meeting –as it concerned them, she thought they ought to be present for it, right?

Apparently, the CIA thought differently.

But oh well. What did she know, anyway? So long as they were permitted to accompany Moira and Levene on their mission, she saw no immediate problem with playing the Kid's Table game- for now, at least.

Erik, on the other hand, seemed a bit steamed at the prospect of waiting for the "Grown-ups" to finish talking. He was pacing back and forth in front of the door, evidently in need of something to do with himself; either that or the man was just incapable of keeping still.

Whatever the case, he was starting to make Allicia nervous, herself. He was exuding restless energy in waves that even a non-telepath, such as she was, could pick up on, and he kept flicking his gaze impatiently toward the door, as if contemplating taking the damn thing off its hinges for the crime of denying them entry.

He huffed irately, to no one in particular, "What is _taking_ them so long?"

Allicia sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh for God's sake, would you relax? It's only been five minutes, tops –and if you keep up that pacing for much longer, you'll wear a hole in the floor."

The grouchy German fixed her with a glare, to which she only smirked in response.

"I will not," he snarled, now doubly irritated from her teasing, "and who asked for your opinion anyway?" If he knew he sounded like a petulant child, he didn't care.

Allicia's smirk only widened at that; normally, if a guy talked to her like that, he wound up with a shiner for it. But for some reason, she only found humor in Erik's intense mood swings. Not only that, but she would never have been able to live with herself if she were to damage the work of art that was his face –It would practically be sacrilege.

That in mind, and because she so _loved_ to wind him up, she decided to have a little fun with the metal-bender.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she said, in reference to his question, "but I believe, _you_ did."

"What are you talking about?" he demanded, slightly confused –he hadn't even been _looking_ at the woman, let alone speaking to her.

She smiled innocently. "Did you not just ask what was taking them so long?"

Where she smiled, he frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"It was rhetorical," he ground out.

"Hmm," she continued, still playing with him, "I don't know, sure didn't sound that way to me…"

"Miss Picone –".

"–Allicia".

Charles, who had been about to warn their newest teammate about his friend's frightfully touchy temper, stopped short at the interruption.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Allicia," she repeated, before going on to explain.

"If you insist that I call you by your first name, I see it as only fair that you call me by mine," she said, a playful grin replacing the smirk from before.

"Oh," Charles replied, smiling in return, "well, alright then, if you insist; Allicia –".

But the telepath was (once again) cut off, as the door to the conference room swung open, revealing Moira, who shut it behind her. Before any of them could ask, she announced, "The plane leaves for Russia in an hour."

She started off down the hall, the other three adults following in her wake, heading for the facility's common room to inform the other recruits, go over the plan, and introduce Allicia.

Blunt as ever, Erik made his feelings regarding the aforementioned plan known to them all, _again_.

"I'm telling you, these kids are _not _ready for Shaw."

Allicia rolled her eyes again, glancing over at Charles with a knowing look.

'_Is he always this pessimistic?' _she asked him silently.

The telepath, who was pleasantly surprised that she had deliberately sent the thought his way, winked conspiratorially at her and answered, in equal silence –

'_You've no idea.'_

Out loud, he addressed the group as a whole, Erik in particular.

"Oh, I think they're gonna surprise you," he reassured them, "They're an exceptional bunch of young people–".

"–What the hell?"

For the third time that night, Charles was interrupted, this time by Moira. She was staring in shock at something going on ahead of them; upon following the direction of her gaze, the three mutants soon found out why.

Just across the courtyard(the walls of which were littered with thin, oddly angled _**scorch marks**_), past the bronze likeness of some anonymous man(which for reasons unknown was sliced cleanly in two), was the(shattered-beyond-recognition) window of the common room. Inside, judging by their behavior –as well as the fact that 'Hippy Hippy Shake was blaring on the radio –it seemed as though the "Exceptional Bunch of Young People" that Charles had only just been praising had decided to throw a little shin-dig.

There was a pretty blonde girl –who Allicia figured was most likely the sister Charles had been telling her about, Raven –jumping up and down on one of the sofas provided, drink in hand and laughing like there was no tomorrow. Close to her was another girl, this one with a set of iridescent, multicolored _wings,_ –this _**had **_to be Angel –who was sort of hover-dancing in mid-air, waving her arms and moving her hips to the beat of the music. Meanwhile, swinging upside-down from one of the ceiling lights by a pair of rather ape-like feet, a brown haired, bespectacled boy was having the time of his young life.

_That, _she thought, _is the genius? Hank "Mr. Responsible" McCoy? _

Allicia's eyebrows shot up at that. _Wow…_

And last, but by no means _least,_ was the odd trio of boys that remained; Another blonde –who by default had to be Alex –, a gangly redhead –Sean, no doubt –,and a young Negro man –obviously, he must be Darwin. These three were, by far, the strangest of the rag-tag gang of misfits; not because of their appearances, although Darwin _did_ seem to be covered, shoulders to waist, in some kind of thick, armadillo-esque armor; but rather, because it looked as though Blondie and the Ginger were attempting to _test_ said armor by wailing on Armadillo Man as hard as they could with the smashed remains of a couple of straight-backed chairs.

Now, it wasn't so much the fact that they were partying that bothered Allicia. She knew as well as anybody that when a bunch of kids got together like this, _and _the bar happened to be unlocked, this sort of outcome was inevitable. I mean come on, let's be honest here, people.

No, the reason it all bugged her so much, was the fact that they were partying while she and the guys had been stuck waiting on a bunch of higher-ups in suits to give them permission to help them _save the world. _

Dare she say it, but she was…jealous of them.

"**WHAT are you doing?**"

Ouch, scratch that; she was jealous of them; as in, _**not**_ anymore.

Way to kill a mood, Moira.

The fiery brunette was _pissed_, and it showed; as soon as the younger recruits knew they were busted, they all stopped whatever it was they were doing, –Raven stepped off the sofa; Angel and Hank came back down to Earth; Darwin retracted his armor; and Alex and Sean dropped their makeshift bludgeons –all of them looking painfully guilty, and more than a little terrified. They were in for it, now…

"Who destroyed the statue?" Moira demanded, gesturing to the ruined heap of metal, her tone even, but scary, nonetheless.

Hank was the first to cave.

"It was Alex!" he squealed, quick to point the finger of blame. And that probably would have put a cap on the trouble for the evening.

Until Raven piped up, that is.

"No, **Havoc**," she corrected, pushing her way to the head of the group, "We have to call him Havoc, that's his name now.

"And we were thinking," she continued, pointing to her brother with enthusiasm, "_You_ should be Professor X," she the pointed to Erik, "And _you_ should be _Magneto_."

Charles was somewhat less than amused. Moira was speechless. Allicia, by this point, was trying to be an adult and contain the obnoxious laughter threatening to burst out of her.

Leave it to Erik to break the silence.

"Exceptional," he stated dryly, before simply turning and walking away. Moira, having absolutely no words for any of them at the moment, followed him, shaking her head in disbelief.

Charles lingered for only a moment longer, and under his hardened stare, Allicia saw Raven falter. Because you see, her brother wasn't _angry_ with her. Oh no, it was worse than that. Much worse.

He was _disappointed_ in her.

"I expect more from you," he said quietly before he, too, walked away.

And then there was one…

Allicia didn't have the slightest clue what to say to these kids; they were all staring at either her, Raven, or the floor, all looking ashamed, guilty, and hurt (in the shape-shifter's case).

As previously stated, she wasn't angry with them, –Hell, she didn't even _know_ them –so she had no intention of yelling at them. She figured the others had that base pretty much covered already, anyway (poor Raven looked like she was about to cry, thanks to Charles). But, being the adult that she was, she felt as though she ought to say **something**.

"Um…" she began; they all looked up at her, bracing themselves for more verbal punishment. Allicia cleared her throat.

"So, uh," she tried, "I'm…I'm just gonna..." Insert a few vague gestures in the direction her comrades went. She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides in surrender. Yes, she was incredibly lame. But sue her; she wasn't good in tense situations. She just ended up making them more awkward.

"Yeah…okay, so I guess I'll just leave you all be, then." She turned to go, before she thought of something.

"Listen," she said, "If I were you, I'd get this place into as good of shape as you can, minus replacing the window and statue. Cleaning up, before you're told, usually helps a little."

When they still didn't answer her, she smiled sympathetically. She really felt bad for these guys.

"Just, try to lay low, okay? Everybody will have the flight over to Russia to cool off. By the time they get back, they probably won't even be angry anymore. Alright?"

A few of them nodded in ascension, though Raven still looked wounded, and Darwin seemed to be mentally kicking himself.

"Okay, then. I'm gonna go try to talk those three down. I guess I'll see you all later."

As they all stayed silent, she figured that was as good an exit cue as any, so, sparing one last backward glance, she left them as well, taking off after the others.

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><p><strong>Was I the only one who was trying not to laugh during that scene? I mean, how awkward can you get? And that's BEFORE Raven adds in her two cents<strong>.

**Anyway, hope you liked it. The next chapter has already been started, so it will probably be up in a day or two. Spoiler Alert(I know I said I wouldn't. I lied): We finally meet the BAD GUYS! Dun, dun, duuuuuuun... **

**Also, Allicia learns a very surprising thing about herself, and here's a hint: It will explain what the title means (because so far, I know it makes no sense.) Any guesses ^^ ?**

**Reviews=Love. Till next time ;)**


	9. Chapter 8

**Okay, so you know how I said that last chapter was the springboard chapter? The one that sets up the AU-ness and all that good stuff?**

**I lied (again). **

**_This_ chapter is the springboard chapter. Sorry; I got my pacing all mixed up while I was putting these couple together. Won't happen again (hopefully).**

_**Any**_**way, here's the latest, as promised, and just a heads-up (in case you don't figure it out upon reading): _Next _chapter will feature the Hellfire guys in all their badass glory, as well as Allicia's special discovery. Already had a great guess on that subject, by the way, from Piezelle - unfortunately, though, Rapid cellular regeneration isn't exactly correct. I explained that it just seemed too close to Wolverine's power for comfort, so I decided against it. As pre-established, she can heal _others_, rather than her own body reflexively healing itself.** **Not that she can't heal herself, as well; it just takes a conscious effort for her to do it, is all. **

**Also, as always, thanks to everyone for reviewing, Alerting, and Favoriting. Hope you all like this one, and again, my apologies for the mix-up.**

**ON WITH THE FIC!**

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><p>When Allicia finally began to catch up with her companions, their voices were echoing throughout one of the facility's many corridors, so she heard them long before she actually <em>saw<em> them. And by the sound of things, not to mention the _volume_, they were _not_ happy about what had just taken place.

"…Unbelievable! Of all the irresponsible –to think Smith just vouched for them!"

"I told you they weren't–".

"–yes, _thank_ you, Erik."

_Yikes_

She came upon them soon after that last bit from Charles, just in time for him to catch her reacting thoughts and, so, become aware of her presence. His eyes shot up as she approached, Erik and Moira following suit a beat later when they heard her footsteps.

The female agent spared her only a cursory glance in response, absorbed as she was in her own thoughts at the moment. The metal manipulator, however, kept his gaze trained on her, trying to gauge her reaction to what had happened. Not that he had to wait long; in an effort to diffuse the tension, Allicia addressed the group.

"So…" she started slowly, "_that_ could've gone better."

They all shot her a look, one that clearly screamed, "Way to go, Captain Obvious."

"You think so?" Erik snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Personally, I thought it went rather well."

"Okay, Sarcastic," she snapped, starting to get _real_ sick of his smart-ass comments, "So it was a total train-wreck of a first impression –no need to add the whole 'I told you so' routine. We got that, thanks."

He simply raised his hands in a 'don't shoot the messenger' fashion, having nothing more to say. He had made his point.

"I just can't believe they would do such a thing. Especially Raven," Charles said, disapproval radiating from his small frame. "She was taught better than that."

Allicia frowned slightly; she couldn't understand why somebody would talk about their sibling that way. The man sounded more like her father than her brother.

"Charles, you make it seem like she was caught shoplifting or something; it was just a party."

He looked up at her in astonishment, unable to comprehend why she was defending her, or any of them, for that matter. Moira couldn't quite believe what she was hearing, either.

"Just a **_party_**?" she repeated incredulously, positively dumbstruck. "They destroyed a fifteen-year old statue beyond repair, smashed a window into a million pieces, and I'm not even going to **_start_ **on the damage to the walls! They're on CIA premises, they should've known better!"

Allicia's eyes narrowed at her words –she was starting to grow impatient with this woman.

"Okay, first off: they're just kids, Moira. I mean, yes, I understand, we have a serious job to do here. And yes, that job requires that they all grow up a little, but come on! How smart were any of us at their age? This is the first time any of them have been able to be themselves -_all of themselves_ -around people just like them. Cut 'em a little slack, will ya?"

Moira merely blinked at her, unable to find the words to respond to such an abrupt (not to mention, valid) argument. Erik, however, was not so easily cowed.

"We can't afford these kinds of slip ups," he said bluntly, not shy to say what the others only thought about. When she scoffed at him, rolling her eyes and turning away, something in him flared up.

He just didn't understand this woman –it was as if she had no idea what they were really working for here, or the danger involved. She probably just thought he was paranoid, like he was sure some of the agents here did. Not that he cared; their opinions of him really didn't matter. But this was different. She had to know what she was getting herself into. One way or another.

"This isn't a game, you know," he said, his voice low and challenging as he stepped into her personal space, "If they carry on the way they just were when we're out in the field, they'll end up getting each other killed –and us along with them."

Allicia caught the hint in his tone, and was more than aware of his attempt to intimidate her. But the stubborn woman wasn't about to back down.

"You don't scare me, Lehnsherr," she replied, looking him dead in the eye, "And you also aren't giving _them_ even the slightest bit of credit. Like I said –they're just kids. They don't _have_ any real training yet, like you do –of _course_ they aren't ready."

She stood tall, her chocolate colored irises boring into his emerald ones.

"But that doesn't mean they can't _learn_," she continued, "All they need is the opportunity."

She appealed to Charles and Moira, her eyes pleading with them to see where she was coming from on this one.

"We're the ones who can give it to them. Look," she conceded, "I get it, okay? They screwed up. Royally –I'm not disputing that. But," she persisted, "They came here to fight with us, and to learn from us. You all believed in them, and so do I. What's it gonna say if we just send them packing after _one_ mistake?"

They all looked at each other, thinking over what she said. Charles sighed, some of the anger going out of him. He turned to Moira.

"She's right," he said, "If we don't believe they're worth giving a chance, they'll never believe it themselves. Any ounce of confidence and self-worth they've gained here would be taken away. We can't just give up on them."

Moira, who was slightly in awe at how quickly the ex-barmaid had managed to neutralize this situation, thought about that for a second, before reaffirming her position, albeit much more calmly this time.

"True as that may be, there's still no way we can risk taking them to Russia. They're not ready, not if we're going up against Shaw."

As much as he knew Allicia to be correct, the telepath couldn't help but see Moira's point, as well. He looked from Erik to Allicia, hoping that they could all get on the same page about this, and quickly: they only had forty-five minutes before the plane left.

"I agree," he said, "They can't come with us, not now. They have to prove they can handle it before we can trust them with that kind of responsibility."

"But at the same time," Moira interjected, "we also can't just leave them here. Not alone, unsupervised."

"Can't one of your agents just look after them?" Erik asked, as if that was the most obvious solution to their problem. Moira rolled her eyes.

"This is the CIA, not a daycare center. These agents have jobs they're paid and legally obligated to do. That doesn't leave much time for babysitting."

"Well then," Charles replied, "One of us will just have to remain here."

Erik and Moira both looked at him like he had just sprouted a second head.

"Charles, are you crazy?" the metal-bender asked. "There is no way that I'm staying behind; try again."

"Nobody was asking you to, my friend."

"Well it can't be me, either," Moira said, not wanting to get roped into this, "I have to be there; this was my assignment in the first place!"

"Moira, it was really just a suggest–".

"– I could stay."

The three of them –Charles, Moira, and Erik –all turned to face Allicia, who had been the one to speak, with raised eyebrows.

"What?" she shrugged, "I could. You all can go ahead to Russia, and I'll hold down the fort here. Make sure they don't have any more wild parties while you're gone," she said with a chuckle, to try and make light of this whole mess.

They exchanged a look, before turning back to her. It would probably work, but they were all apprehensive at the prospect of separating.

"You're sure?" Charles asked, clearly on the fence about leaving her behind.

She just smiled. "Yeah, positive. I mean, as it stands, I'm probably the only one of the four of us that isn't _absolutely_ necessary for this job. You three can handle this. And hey,' she added nonchalantly, "I grew up with five brothers and sisters; –older _and_ younger –I can handle them."

Erik wasn't too thrilled about the arrangement, either; she had fighting experience; granted it was minimal and mostly in self-defense, but still. Not to mention, thanks to her mutation, she could basically act as a field nurse. They may have need of her if things went south, which knowing Schmidt, –Shaw, he mentally corrected himself –they very well could. Moira, too, viewed the new plan skeptically, regarding it along the same lines as the metal manipulator.

"Seriously," Allicia asserted, when none of them said anything, "It'll be fine."

The three all looked at her, before Moira caught site of the clock on the wall. They had less than thirty minutes now to make a decision, or the flight to Russia was going to take off without them.

"Okay…" she said, glancing once at the two men for confirmation; Charles and Erik looked at each other, then at Moira, and finally, at Allicia, before both nodding in agreement. Charles smiled, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"We'll leave this in your capable hands, then, I guess."

Erik didn't miss the small gesture, but decided not to say anything, writing of the strange sensation it sparked in his chest as annoyance at his friend's capacity to trust people so easily.

Allicia, meanwhile, grinned confidently back, glad that this was finally settled.

"Well, now that we're all satisfied, I suggest you three get ready to go –you've got a plane to catch.

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><p><strong>Next chapter is almost done, so expect it in a few days or so.<strong>

**Reviews=love. **


	10. Chapter 9

**Okay, before you guys say anything (or throw rotten fruits and vegetables at me), _please_ hear me out:**

**I know I said that _this_ chapter was the one I've been trying to get you hyped up for, but for the sake of the pacing, I had to (once again) set that chapter back *ducks under the desk*.**

**I SWEAR, Scouts Honor (and I can say that since I really was a Scout), that the very next chapter will be the one. I promise I'm not doing this on purpose for suspense or anything, I'm just not very good at writing multichapter fics, I guess; I have all these great ideas for chapters, but then I remember that they're, like, three or four chapters off before I can write them into the story in a way that makes sense.**

**And I'm rambling... Sorry about that. Anyway, thanks a bunch for the reviews, alerts, and favorites. I hope you guys like this and please be patient with me -the next chapter is on it's way!  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Two Hours and Twenty minutes later…<strong>

"Jesus, man, you are _killin_' me"

"Don't beat yourself up. I've had a lot of spare time."

Allicia smiled, listening to the oddly soothing bells and pings coming from the pinball machine across the room, where apparently, Darwin was losing terribly to Alex –for about the fifth time in a row, if she'd counted right. Meanwhile, she, Raven, and Angel were lounging on the couches on the other end of the common room with Hank and Sean, just hanging out, sipping their Cokes (as the liquor behind the bar had been safely locked away), and talking, trying to get to know one another better.

At first, when the younger recruits had found out that they were being forcibly left behind while Charles, Erik and Moira went off to Russia without them, they had all been pretty bummed out. Of course, they also knew they all deserved a lot worse punishment than what they were getting –they had all expected to be sent home that night, after what they did. So, bearing that in mind, none of them had mustered up the nerve to complain about being benched. Still, it stung, all the same; knowing the adults didn't fully trust them anymore.

The only thing that really made it better was the fact that Allicia had elected to stay with them. Again, though, this hadn't been their initial opinion of the idea; they knew that, essentially, she was just a glorified babysitter. But when they all learned that it had been her choice to hang back and miss out on all the action with the others, they figured she was all right.

In fact, they thought, she was one cool chick.

But anyway, back to the subject at hand. As established, the seven of them were all just hanging out, at the moment in a comfortable silence, when all of a sudden; there was a knock on their window.

"Hey, I didn't know the circus was in town!"

The comment, which had come from the mouth of an incredibly rude agent, caused them all to look up; despite the old stand-by of not giving bullies that satisfaction. Allicia's eye's narrowed in disgust at what she saw on the other side of the glass.

There was one agent –the guy insulting them –standing there gawking at them like they were the latest exhibit at the zoo, while a second tagged along beside him, looking back and forth between them and his colleague uneasily. She didn't know who she hated more in that moment; the grown man poking them with a proverbial stick to try and get a rise out of them; or the man who stood next to him, knowing it was wrong, but allowing it to happen anyway. Allicia shook her head angrily at them –people like that made her sick.

Jerk Number One, in the interim, was trying to have some "fun" with Angel.

"Hey come on, honey, let's see a little…" he started crudely imitating the movement of her wings, flapping his hands back and forth and even making little whooshing sounds. She sneered at him in response, so he tried Hank instead.

"Come on, let's see the foot," he smirked, and when Hank stood up and made his way to the window, he nodded, clearly thinking he was getting what he wanted.

"That's right, come on Bigfoot, let's go –hey, hey come on! Hey!"

But his indignant cry was effectively silenced when Hank drew the curtain closed, giving them both a mock-salute before disappearing from view. That done, he sat back down next to Sean, shoulders slumping a bit as he mulled over what he'd just seen, and heard. Not that Allicia gave him much time to dwell on it, though.

"Assholes," she cursed under her breath, shifting in her seat to see Angel sitting, jaw clenched angrily, beside her. She hesitated for a second, before putting a hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Don't you dare listen to them," she said firmly, focusing her gaze on Raven and the boys as well, "They're nothing but a couple of ignorant, overpaid pencil-pushers."

"Yeah," Raven nodded, "they're just guys being stupid."

"Guys being stupid I can handle," Angel bit back, "Okay? I've handled that my whole life –". Hank and Sean raised their eyebrows at the slight on their sex's intelligence, but let it slide; it was probably better for them to just keep a lid on it while Angel was so mad.

The former dancer was staring fiercely at Raven as she continued, her voice hard as steel.

"–But I'd rather a bunch of guys stared at me with my clothes _off_ than the way these ones stare at me," she said harshly.

Raven thought for a minute, before correcting Angel's statement.

"At _**us**_," she amended, referring to herself and Allicia, as well as the guys –_they_ were all "freaks" there, too.

Angel said nothing, shrugging off Allicia's hand and staring at the floor. Allicia let her hand fall back into her lap –for the moment letting the snub go –and they all resumed sitting in silence, thinking about what those idiots had said despite themselves.

Not a minute went by, however, before they were shaken from their musings by a loud thud. It was followed almost instantly by another, this time louder –closer.

"What was that?" Darwin asked, the sound taking his attention away from his and Alex's game. He frowned when he heard the sound again, directing his gaze to the others, who looked just as confused as he was. Allicia stood, turning to glance at him with an expression of mild concern. Her senses were starting to act up, and it was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. There was something going on; and whatever it was, it _**wasn't**_ good.

"I don't know," she said, stepping over to the window to open the shade, "Something's not right."

They heard another thud as they grouped around the glass, looking around the courtyard and the surrounding rooftops for the source; and then another, and another, each time louder than the last. It was at the point where it felt like it was coming from right above them, that Darwin spoke again, his voice filled with dread.

"What is _**that**_?" he asked, and upon looking up, they all saw what he was talking about; there were what appeared to be two figures silhouetted against the light of the moon, one holding onto the other. Allicia could feel them; it wasn't just a reflection –there were actually people up there! Her eyes widened, fear twisting in her gut when, just as suddenly as they appeared, one of the figures vanished –just vanished! –leaving the other to plummet back to Earth.

All any of them could do was watch in horror as he fell, and the next thing they knew, a crumpled body was crash-landing in front of their window with a sickening crunch. Raven and Angel screamed.

It was Agent Smith.

"Oh my god," Allicia whispered, covering her hand over her mouth in shock.

**To be continued...**

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><p><strong>I know, I know -I'm a horrible, evil author and a total cliffie worshipper. And yes, I know, I also gave Allicia half of Darwin's line. A thousand apologies, I just couldn't help myself. I'll more than make it up to him in the end, though, I swear (HINT!).<br>**

**Reviews=Love**


	11. Chapter 10

**Okay guys, here it is: Finally, the chapter I've been trying to get out for over a week now! Warning: the following chapter contains violence and small amounts of swearing. Also, It's the longest I've ever written: You're welcome!  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p>The night air was rent with cries of fear and pain as bodies dropped all around the complex. Searchlights on the roof lit up the sky, illuminating the grisly scene as the group of terrified mutants watched the agents assigned to guard and protect them die, one by one. With each man that fell, the girls continued to scream, the boys stared in shock, and Allicia…She didn't know what to do.<p>

It was all happening so fast, but for her it seemed to go on for an eternity. Her mutant senses were live wires; she could feel the adrenaline coursing through the veins of every single man as he fell, and she was shaken to her core every time one of their hearts suddenly stopped beating. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life; completely aware of what was happening and, yet, powerless to stop it. Allicia knew that as soon as one of them hit the ground, they were already gone. She couldn't even _try_ to save them.

All she could do was watch.

The courtyard was suddenly overrun by armed men in suits, as the agents that were left alive tried desperately to locate the menace that was slaying their men, and neutralize them before anybody else was killed. One of the seniors ran over to the window and motioned for them all to take cover.

"Get back, get back! Do not leave that room! We're under attack," he ordered. But no sooner were the words out of his mouth than the attacker made himself known to them.

A man dressed in black with the face of a demon appeared in a cloud of red-and-black smoke in the center of the courtyard, bearing a pair of deadly-curved blades, poised to strike. The recruits all yelled at the agents to turn around, and they did, reacting immediately.

"SHOOT, SHOOT!"

But they were already too late.

The red-skinned swordsman, merely a beat later, vanished in a shower of bullets, only to re-appear feet away from his starting point, and then disappear again. A few men were clipped with flesh wounds as the ones who were firing missed the mysterious assailant, taking out the newly-replaced window in the process to the girls' renewed screams.

The recruits, meanwhile, were trying to stay under cover behind one of the couches, with Darwin and Allicia guarding them at either side, each facing one of the windows in case more of them showed up. Shots rang out in constant succession, making their ears ring as they alternately shrieked in protest and gaped in horror.

The men in the courtyard were shouting again, frantically trying to hit their target – they might as well have been trying to catch smoke bare-handed for all the success they were having –but the mutants weren't paying that much attention. They were otherwise occupied at the moment with the _**tornado**_ that had just cropped up out of nowhere outside the other window; the one that was currently ripping Cerebro to shreds like it was made of tin foil (to Hank's visible and utter devastation).

As if the freak wind storm wasn't enough already, the gunshots began again in the courtyard. The teleporter –for that was surely what the man must've been –was back, busy slicing and stabbing the agents to pieces with frightening ease, popping up blade-first and felling them like trees left, right, and center. The ringing in their ears caused by the shots was overwhelming. However, it wasn't enough to block out the stomach-turning slash of metal through flesh; a sound that, apparently, was music to the telporter's ears. The idea made Allicia's skin crawl.

And she wasn't the only one.

"Stay here my ASS," Darwin yelled, signaling for them to follow him out the door, "Let's go!"

Agreeing that it was probably the safest option, Allicia didn't contradict the man, motioning for the others to listen and go ahead of her so she left last. She saw them all safely out, before quickly slamming the door and bolting after them.

They raced down the corridor, Darwin heading the pack with Alex and Angel hot on his heels and the others right behind them, while Allicia covered the rear. They didn't manage to get very far, however, before they found their path blocked by even _more_ agents and men in soldiers' uniforms, all of whom were shouting at them to get back as well as acting as human barricades.

"Let us through!" Allicia cried, to a chorus of affirmations from the rest of the group. They could help fight whoever was doing this if the humans would just _move aside_!

Turns out, though, that they were just doing their jobs as guards –keeping them all out of harm's way, as it were -, because the next second, there was a colossal explosion that shook the entire building. The men pushed them further away, urging them to run.

Well, they didn't have to tell them twice.

They doubled back, Allicia now in the lead and shouting for the others to keep up, while running full-tilt from the intense blaze of heat and flames lapping at the walls and floors behind them. No one dared to look back.

Before they knew it they were right back where they started, skidding into the common room with a screeching halt, to gape open-mouthed at the unrelenting slaughter of men at the hands of the teleporter. He had a look of pure sadistic pleasure at the sight and sound of the dead and the dying, cutting down every man in his path with a sly smirk playing across his face all the time. There was blood everywhere, causing Raven and Angel to cry and whimper and Sean to look as though he was going to hurl, while everyone else was stunned silent.

All this, of course, would be second only to the continued war-zone being created by the spontaneous twister outside the window behind them; a window that, like its counterpart, was shattered moments later, as a screaming man flew through the glass, smashing it and landing in a broken heap, mere feet away from them. Nobody even bothered checking if he was still alive –they didn't have time.

They had much bigger problems on their hands.

Apparently, they had been right in guessing the first assassin might've had friends, factoring into account the russet-skinned man in a crisp, gray suit walking towards them from the ruin that was once Cerebro, stepping over the crushed glass and window frame to stand not far from them inside the common room. He was directly after joined by the teleporter who, having finished decimating the men in the courtyard, stalked over to them much in the manner of his assumed comrade; keeping his distance, but close enough to intimidate them.

Allicia and Darwin instinctively stood in front of the younger recruits, effectively shielding them with their bodies, their eyes darting apprehensively between the two men, watching their every move in case they tried anything else. The funny thing was, the violent strangers just…stood there, glancing up at each other every so often but, for the most part, watching the door –like they were waiting for something. They didn't have to wait very long.

Soon after the chaos of the men's arrival had given way to silence, said silence was broken, yet again, by the sound of gun fire and the girls' answering screams of terror. The shots suddenly stopped, however, and were replaced by a panicked voice on the other side of the door.

"You want the mutants?" he said, to an unknown second party, "They're right through that door! Just let us normal people go! We're not a threat –!"

He was cut off by a final gunshot.

Allicia couldn't believe it. _That, that didn't just happen…_

One of the men, one of the _guards_, who were assigned to _**protect them**_, had just sold them out! And probably to some psychopath who was there to kill them, if the past few minutes were any indication.

_That _**bastard!**

But she didn't have the time to be angry; the next second, the door flew open, emitting a sharply dressed 40-something man, who wearing a ridiculous-looking, gun-metal gray helmet. All was silent as he looked about the room, his eyes resting momentarily on each of the mutants huddled together in the back. The healer felt a chill run down her spine; something was seriously off about this guy. Her "senses" were starting to kick up again –so, he was a mutant, too.

_Shit_.

The newcomer regarded the two men on either side of the room, before asking the demon-faced one, "Where's the telepath?"

_Charles? _She thought questioningly, _what the…?_

"Not here," the teleporter replied, a heavy Russian accent coloring his words. If the situation weren't so tense, Allicia would've appreciated the irony of a scarlet-skinned Soviet a lot more. As it stood, she just shook her head sardonically.

_Figures the red guy's a Red…_

The man in the helmet frowned.

"Too bad," he said, before reaching up to remove the dorky headpiece, "Well, at least I can take this silly thing off." And he did just that, revealing a rather handsome face and a head of full, chestnut hair. He smiled at the group who were staring at him warily, addressing them with his fullest attention.

"Good evening," he greeted them genially, "My name is Sebastian Shaw…"

Allicia's brows disappeared into her hair. Shaw? As in, _the_ Shaw? The man whose plans for world domination they were currently trying to foil; the guy that Charles, Erik, and Moira were hunting for overseas; the one that wanted to start World War Three; _**that **_Shaw?

They were _so _fucked.

She snapped back to reality as he continued to speak.

"…And I am not here to hurt you," he reassured them; to which a lone surviving agent in the courtyard answered, "Freeze!"

Shaw sighed, looking almost bored. "Azazel?" he said, sparing the teleporter a "would you mind?" look. The Russian responded by vanishing, coming up less than a breath later across the courtyard, soundly running the man through with one of his swords, and shifting back to his place near the recruits in a puff of black smoke. Allicia and Darwin exchanged a look of dread; not there to hurt them?

Yeah, _right._

"My friends," Shaw continued, handing his helmet off to the Latin-looking man wordlessly, "There's a revolution coming! When mankind figures out who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice –be enslaved," he looked pointedly at Darwin, who set his jaw defiantly, "Or rise up to _rule_," he finished passionately, looking at each of them in turn with a mysterious fire in his eyes.

"Choose freely," he offered, "but know that if you are not with us, then by definition you are _against _us; so, you can stay, and fight for the people who hate and fear you," his probing gaze flicked through them all, looking for the weak link, "or you can join me, and live like _kings_!"

His eyes rested on Angel. "…And queens," he added, holding out an open hand for her. They all stared at her, willing her without words not to listen, to see that it was all just a trick. Allicia could see the girl's mind working, knowing without being a telepath that she was thinking about what those agents had said, and how the guard had turned on them.

_Don't do it, _she thought, wishing for Charles' power so that she could actually be heard, _don't do this, please…_

Angel took his hand, following him and the others as they made their way out. Raven stared after her, eyes full of hurt, as did everyone else.

"Angel…?"

"Are you kiddin' me?"

"Come on," she said, turning and nodding for them to follow her, "we don't belong here. And that's nothing to be ashamed of." Her voice shook with conviction; she was seriously leaving them, to join the ranks of their enemy.

Darwin held his hand out to her, begging her with his eyes to change her mind, to come back. The look on his face was imploring her to see how wrong this was, and that _they _were her friends, not this guy and his band of murderers.

She turned her back on them.

Raven was furious; they all were. "We have to do something," she all but growled.

"Like what?" Allicia snapped back lowly, looking at them all, then at Darwin; he was thinking.

_That_ couldn't be good…

He gave her a look, before narrowing his eyes meaningfully at Alex, who was shaking his head angrily at him. Realization dawned on her, and she didn't like it one bit.

'_No_!' she mouthed, shaking her head as well, '_No! Don't even think about it!_' But he was already turning around.

"Stop!" he called out, "I'm coming with you."

Shaw smirked triumphantly when Darwin walked over to them, as did Angel.

"Good choice," he told him, meeting him half-way, "So, tell me about your mutation."

"Well, I adapt to survive," Darwin boasted confidently, "So I guess I'm coming with you."

Shaw's smirk widened, and he let out a small chuckle. "I like that," he said, gesturing for Darwin to stand beside Angel, and clapping the young man proudly on the shoulder before linking hands with Azazel. Just as they were about to leave, though, Darwin gave the other mutants his signal.

"Alex..!"

"GET OUT!"

"DO IT!"

They all ran for it, and in a minute they heard the tell-tale sound of Alex's power going off. When they heard Shaw speaking, however, they knew that something had gone horribly wrong.

Now, who could've predicted _that_?

The four of them ran back into the room just in time to catch Darwin trying to punch Shaw in the face, –how was this creep still _standing_? –and Shaw blocking him, his face twisted into the most wicked smile any of them had ever seen. In his hand was a glowing red orb of pulsating energy –_**Alex's**_ energy, Allicia realized, terrified.

He held Darwin firmly by the jaw with one hand, and held the tiny orb in his other.

"Adapt to _this_," Shaw whispered, raising it to Darwin's lips.

"_**NO!**__"_

All of a sudden, Allicia felt a foreign burst of raw power coursing through her, emanating from her very core and surging inside her chest, down her outstretched arm and out her fingertips. It wasn't a visible type of energy, but it felt…almost, alive, somehow; searching, reaching out. And as she screamed in protest at what Shaw had been about to do, that energy, apparently of it's own volition, found whatever it was looking for. In that split second, Shaw –quite literally –froze where he stood.

Allicia's eyes widened in shock; Alex's energy was still held in his hand, which in turn was still suspended in mid-air in front of Darwin, and yet, he wasn't moving. Not an inch. Darwin was confused, and still stuck in his grasp, but as he saw that he was –for the moment –safe, he managed to struggle out of the man's iron grip, getting quickly out of his reach and watching the oldest of their group with questioning eyes.

"Allicia…?"

But she couldn't think of what to say, considering she didn't have the slightest clue as to what was happening, or how, for that matter. The only thing she was focused on in that moment was keeping up whatever it was that she seemed to be doing; keeping Shaw frozen, as it were.

The teleporter, meanwhile, was staring at her with something akin to fear ruling his features. He looked at the others, who looked back, equally as confused as he, before grabbing Shaw and Angel's hands and swiftly poofing them out of there, along with the silent man. As soon as he was gone, and her apparent hold on him gone as well, Allicia sank to her knees, breathing heavily and shaking from fear and adrenaline.

_What the hell just happened?_

The others were on her in an instant, Raven kneeling before her with a hand resting on her shoulder.

"Allicia? Are you okay?"

The woman shook her head slightly, still not entirely clear as to what was going on.

"I'm…not sure," she replied, shocked to hear how weak she sounded. She was trembling head to foot, and felt all of a sudden completely exhausted, like she had just run a marathon. She was afraid to even stand up just yet, worried she might face-plant on the concrete.

Raven looked worried, too, exchanging nervous glances with the guys.

"How did you do that?" she asked, "I mean, I know that Charles can do that to people, if he really concentrates, but he's a telepath…" she trailed off, gazing at Allicia uncertainly.

Allicia shook her head again.

"No, it wasn't that –I'm not a telepath; I heal people, that's all."

Hank looked intrigued by this; she could practically see the gears in that scientific head of his begin to whir. Before he could ask her anything, though, Sean beat him to it.

"Then how...?" he asked, gesturing vaguely to the spot where Shaw had just stood. Allicia, being just as confused as the rest of them, gave him the only answer she _did_ have.

"I don't know…"

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><p><strong>Hiya!<strong>

**Yes, I know, it's been a while since I updated, but this chapter was freaking hard! I had to keep going over this scene in the movie, like, a hundred times to get the dialogue and the action right, since it goes so fast. I know it looks like it went on forever, but if you watch the film, it only takes like, five minutes, if that. So, yeah, that's why it took me so long; that, and the holiday. Happy belated Thanksgiving to you all, by the way.**

**On a positive note -YAY! Darwin didn't die! I really couldn't understand why they killed him off in the film; from what I hear, he was a pretty sweet character in the comics. SO, I saved him! Again, YAY!**

**Now, as for Allicia: I'm guessing you're all a bit confused about this new development, but don't worry! Her epic Shaw-Freezing skills will be fully explained in later chapters. There is something of a science behind it, so we all know Hank will be all over that(Though, it's more along the lines of theory, really, rather than actual fact, so be prepared.).**

**Just to be safe, I'm not making any promises on the next update. You'll get it when you get it, okay? **

**Thanks for reading!**

**Reviews=Love :)  
><strong>


	12. Chapter 11

**Hey guys!**

**I hope you all liked the last chapter, and thank you so much to Piezelle for the review (as always, love the input)**. **Here's the latest, and it's basically the aftermath of Shaw's little rampage on the base. Damage control, re-grouping and what-not. **

**Hope you like it! I still own nothing :( **

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><p>After all the destruction that Shaw and his minions had caused, the near-silence of the base was maddening –eerie, almost. A good portion of the building had been reduced to smoldering rubble, and most of the agents that had been on duty were now dead -the Head of the facility among them. Thankfully, however, that was not the fate of the agents as a whole.<p>

"Allicia!" Sean called out from his position on the roof.

The healer's head snapped up.

"Yeah?"

"Got another one up here!"

She sighed, halting tending to her current patient's head and chest, before looking up at the redhead again.

"How bad?" she called back.

There was a brief moment where Sean had to bend back down and give the man a quick once-over, and then he looked down at her again.

"He's cut up pretty bad, and one of his legs bent wrong when he landed. He's kinda out of it," he relayed to her, shaking his head slightly, "I think he can make it, but I don't know if we should move him. You should probably come up," he said.

She glanced down at the man lying under her hands, his wounds almost fully healed, before looking up at Sean again and nodding an affirmative.

"Got it, just let me finish up down here," she told him, "I'll be right there."

He nodded, and then disappeared once more, presumably to scout around for more injured men for her to fix. She sighed, weariness creeping into her bones. It had been one hell of a night…

She turned back to her current charge and finished off the process of knitting together the areas of his skin that had met Azazel's blades. After another minute or so, she let out a breath and opened her eyes (she hadn't even remembered closing them, such was her fatigue), pulling her hands back into her lap and addressing the man before her, who was staring at her with a mix of anxiety and awe.

"Alright," she said to him, "you're all set; just try to lie still for now, though, okay? Your body needs to rest, even if your brain says you're fine."

He nodded, murmuring a small 'thanks' to her, and with a gentle smile and a quick 'you're welcome', she stood, her head pulsing dully from her efforts –she had never healed that many people at once before –and made her way back into the complex through the shattered common room window, heading for the door that lead to the roof.

Once she reached the top of the stairwell and the graveled rooftop stretched out in front of her, she immediately spotted Sean –with that hair, it was impossible to miss him –crouched over a prone figure who she could hear groaning in agony from where she stood not far away. She jogged over to them, dropping to her knees on the man's other side and looking up at her fellow mutant.

"Thanks for staying with him Sean," she said, before asking, "Are there any others up here?"

He shook his head grimly, looking rather dejected. "No, me and Alex both checked, top to bottom; we didn't find anymore… survivors," he said, hanging his head sadly.

Allicia frowned, but quickly dispelled any thoughts of guilt; Shaw was responsible for this, not them. The most they could do now was help who they could, and recover the bodies of those they couldn't. They were doing everything they could, she reasoned with herself.

She briefly reached out for the boy's shoulder, trying to comfort him.

"Hey," she said, looking him in the eye, "It's gonna be okay, okay? I promise. We'll find this guy."

He seemed doubtful, but nodded his understanding all the same.

"Thanks," he murmured. Allicia gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Anytime, kid," she replied, before nodding over to the stairway door, "Why don't you go back down with the others and keep looking? I'll handle it up here, and you all just shout if you find somebody."

"Sure thing," he responded, getting up and heading for the door, leaving her alone with the broken man lying before her.

She cracked her knuckles once (a nervous habit she had picked up as a kid) and set to work, splaying her fingers and letting her hands roam over his body, hovering perhaps an inch from his clothed skin. What she found wasn't good; multiple fractures in his left shoulder and arm; serious bruising all along his head, neck, and torso; two cracked ribs, another two broken –again, left side; and he had, as Sean had aptly predicted, landed wrong on his left leg, which she knew without the aid of her power was definitely broken as well, judging by the odd angle it was bent at. Legs just weren't supposed to bend that way.

The pain of it all seemed to be keeping him semi-conscious, but apparently he was lucid enough to notice her exploration of his wounds, as he started to try and back away from her in fear. Of course, with the state he was in at the moment, he didn't manage more than scooting a few inches away before he crumpled again, chest heaving as he gave a loud cry of pain. Allicia raised her hands in a placating gesture, trying desperately to get him to stop before he hurt himself.

"Hey, whoa, just take it easy," she said calmly, speaking softly in an effort to soothe the man, who was obviously pretty spooked. Not that she blamed him –getting dropped out of the sky and nearly dying from the injuries can do that to people.

He screwed his eyes shut, wincing as he dragged in a wheezing breath.

"Who…who are… you?" he hissed, his teeth grit in pain.

"My name is Allicia," she replied, keeping her hands up and her tone even, showing him that she meant him no harm, "I'm one of the mutants that Agents Smith and MacTaggert are working with here."

He huffed at that, before clutching at his chest from the sting of irritating his broken ribs.

"One of the…freaks," he rasped derisively, and whether his face was twisted into a grimace or a sneer, she couldn't tell.

She let out a frustrated sigh; she was really getting tired of people calling her that.

"Yeah," she answered, her tone taking on an edge despite her efforts to stay calm, "That's right."

"And this _freak_," she continued, her gaze hardening, "can heal people, with her _freak_ powers –which, by the way, is something you desperately need at the moment, buddy.

"So," she asked, a challenge dancing in her eyes, "do you want me to leave you up here and let some doctor take care of you, –in which case you'd be laid up in a hospital for at least a good week or two –or are you going to let me help you, as I can have you up and walking again within the hour, like tonight never happened?"

The guy just stared at her, utterly dumbstruck; no woman had ever talked to him like that before, and was she really serious…?

His eyes told her that he didn't fully trust her, but he grudgingly relented, nodding his consent.

"Just get on with it," he ground out, before screwing his eyes shut again; the effort to speak was putting an unhealthy strain on his already-stressed system.

_Fine, _Allicia thought, determined to have the last word one way or another, _ungrateful son of a…_

Setting her jaw and cracking her knuckles again (the agent flinched at that), she bent over him once more, glancing at him for a second with a slightly softer expression, her mouth curving up at the corners a bit despite her irritation at the man's closed-mindedness. She looked him in the eye, still trying to convince him she was there to help.

"Just…" she said, taking a deep breath, "…Don't move."

With that, she exhaled slowly and focused solely on her task, the world and all its troubles momentarily forgotten…

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><p>It was roughly an hour or so later that the bedraggled group of mutants came back together again in the courtyard, every one of them looking about ready to drop.<p>

"I think that's everyone," Hank said, looking to the others for confirmation. They all nodded half-heartedly, lack of sleep muddling their responses. But they all thought the same thing; _everyone left _alive_..._

"Yeah," Alex agreed, stifling a yawn. He glanced over at Allicia, who seemed by all accounts the one in charge, "So, what now?"

She thought about it for a minute, before saying, "Well, if any of your rooms survived the explosion, then I suggest you get some shut-eye. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day."

"And if not?" Raven asked, "what are we supposed to do then?"

"I guess you'll just have to camp out in each other's rooms," she said simply, "Sound fair?"

There was a general mumbling of 'yeah, sure's and 'I guess's from the group.

_Good enough,_ she thought.

"Okay. We'll check it out now, then, cause I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm whipped."

And so, they head in the general direction where they remembered the dormitories to be. Amazingly, this wing was only partially damaged; they were all able to find their rooms, although Hank ended up having to share with Darwin, since the ceiling of his had caved in. They all made sure before they did anything else to have their bags packed and ready with whatever they could salvage from the dust and various debris, though thankfully, they had all barely unpacked to begin with. That done, they bid one another goodnight, settling down to try and get a few hours of sleep before the others got back from Russia in the morning.

Hopefully, by then, they would wake up and this night would turn out to have all been just a really messed up dream...

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><p><strong>Reviews=love.<strong>


	13. Chapter 12

**Whazzup! (I know, I couldn't help it -I love 90's slang!)  
><strong>

**Anyway, just wanted to say thanks to everybody who reviewed. Last chapter had the highest number of reviews of any chapter I've posted; I was shocked! Way to go, guys :) I especially wanted to thank Errem, who I wasn't able to reply to in the conventional way ( so I just hope you're reading now, and thank you so much. You really gave some great insight, and I'll try to take it into account in future chapters).**

**So, here's the newest chapter. Hope you like it (but if you don't, feel free to tell me why!)**

**I still don't own X-Men...**

**Yet... (*rubs hands together evilly* Muwhahahaha!)  
><strong>

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><p>The next morning came sooner than they thought. Allicia felt she had only just succumbed to that blissful darkness of sleep, when the next thing she knew light was streaming through the window and threatening to blind her. Not only that, but someone was urgently calling her name.<p>

'_ALLICIA!'_

_That_ certainly woke her up.

She leapt out of bed, brushing stray bits of hair out of her face and bolting for the door. Yanking it open, she looked frantically up and down the hallway for the source of the noise, only to find it deserted. Still, she heard that voice shouting for her, which, come think of it, sounded awfully familiar…

"Charles…?" she hesitantly called out, her own voice echoing in the (thankfully) empty corridor. There was a moment's silence, then –

'_Allicia? Oh, thank God, I was starting to think you'd never answer…'_

The woman let out an exasperated huff, slightly irritated at him for scaring her.

'_Christ, Charles, don't _do_ that,' _she chided him mentally,_ 'I thought one of the kids was in trouble or something…'_

'_Apologies, but I've been trying to contact you for over an hour now,' _he explained, his mental tone still rather worried, '_what on Earth took you so long?'_

Allicia rolled her eyes, before going back into her room and closing the door.

'_I was sleeping, genius…'_

'_Oh,' _he thought, sounding faintly apologetic_, 'sorry about that…'_

She sighed, settling down on the edge of the bed and rubbing a hand tiredly over her face.

'_It's alright, I guess. It's just…well; it was kind of a long night, that's all…'_

And indeed, this was true; her sleep had been fitful at best as the memory of the attack had flashed through her mind, and she'd ended up tossing and turning most of the night. Despite the calm front she had put on for the other's sake, the stress of it all had plagued her for hours –the teleporter wielding his swords; Angel's defection; and whatever the _hell _she had done to Shaw… It had been a lot to process all in one night.

'_Yes,' _he told her, '_I know. That's precisely why I'm calling –we heard last night on our way back that there was an attack on the base. What happened? Are the children alright? Was anybody hurt?'_

She took a minute to consider how best to tell him, not _at all_ looking forward to his reaction.

'_Charles…' _she heaved a mental sigh, '_Shaw was here. He was here, and so were two others –a teleporter and, I'm pretty sure, a man who can create tornados…'_

'_WHAT?'_

"Ah!" Allicia cried out loud, clutching her head. Charles' panic was tearing into her with such force that it was actually physically painful.

'_Charles!' _She shouted through the link, hoping to calm him down before her brain exploded, '_God, relax –you're going to give me an aneurysm! We're fine, the kids are fine; it's okay!'_

Nevermind the fact that most of the agents were either dead or had been seriously hurt –so long as he stopped yelling, she would tell him anything at this point.

She felt him exhale in relief, and the pounding in her head gradually began to fade, of which she was exceedingly grateful. She lowered her hands, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to try and steady herself after the almost-migraine, and then Charles was speaking again.

'_I'm _terribly_ sorry about that,' _he said, feeling horrible about his momentary lapse in control, '_it's just that you said Shaw, and I automatically jumped to the worst possible scenarios.'_

'_Yeah,' _she thought sardonically, reaching up to rub her temples, '_I sensed that…'_

'_Again, my sincerest apologies,' _he replied sheepishly.

'_It's alright, Charles,' _she told him, before sighing once more, '_you… sort of had a right to worry…'_

The panic was back again; although he was having marginally better success in tamping it down this time, she still felt some of it, and the guilt of what had happened was eating at her for it.

'_What do you mean? You just said that you were all fine...'_

'_Well, _**we** _are, yes…' _she said, hesitant to continue. She hated having to tell him this, after he had trusted her to keep an eye on things. He seemed to sense what was coming, though.

'_But…?'_

Another heavy sigh –God, why was this so hard?

'_But,' _she went on, '_the humans weren't so lucky. That teleporter was ruthless. He… he was dropping men out of thin air, Charles –just dropping them right out of the sky. The kids and I tried to find whoever we could that was still alive, and I did what I could for them but… There were only so many left…'_

'_My God…'_

'_I know…'_

She felt him take a deep breath, before he asked –

'…_How many?'_

A pause, and then –

'…_Too many to count,' _she thought sorrowfully, '_a few dozen, at least; a hundred at most…'_

'_...'_

'…_One of them was Smith –he died on impact. There was…there was nothing I could do…'_

The telepath remained silent; she could feel his shock reverberate through the mental connection.

'_I'm so sorry, Charles…'_

'_...No,' _he finally sighed_, 'It wasn't your fault. You kept the others safe; nobody could've asked for more than that.'_

And there it was again; that guilt. For all he was doing to comfort her, he had no idea yet that he was only twisting the knife in further…

'_There's…there's more, though…'_

'_Oh God, what?' _He asked, trepidation lacing his mental voice.

Allicia braced herself. _Just tell him, _she thought_, rip off the Band-aid._

'_We lost Angel, Charles… She left us.'_

'_What…? What do you mean, "She left"?'_

'_Just that; Shaw made us all an offer and she accepted. Darwin and the others tried to stop her, but it didn't matter –her mind was made up.'_

Again, he was silent; disbelieving and wounded from the obvious blow. She could tell already that he blamed himself for not seeing it sooner. But she wasn't about to let him do that.

'_This isn't your fault, either, you know.' _

'_...'_

'_It was her choice, in the end, Charles. You couldn't have known…'_

'…_Couldn't I?' _He asked, his voice filling her mind with bitterness and uncertainty.

Allicia's own voice was determined and strong as she answered.

'_No,' _she maintained, '_you couldn't have. The human mind changes all the time; hers was –and is –no different. To tell yourself that you could've predicted when and how it would change is just stupid. You're telepathic, Charles,' _she thought with a chuckle, '_not clairvoyant.'_

He was reluctant to believe her, she could tell, but eventually the sensation of dropping her shoulders in defeat passed through the link and she knew he saw her point.

'_Yes,' _he thought, '_I suppose you're right…'_

'_Damn right I am,' _she replied confidently, much to her friend's amusement. He suppressed a chuckle of his own as he 'spoke' again.

'_Is there anything else you ought to tell me,' _He asked, '_or is that it?'_ For a second, she felt a renewed prickle of anxiety set in. '… _Is Raven alright?'_

There was the briefest of pauses while she considered her answer; tell him about how she apparently froze Shaw and have him wig out again, or just let it go for now and wait until she could explain the situation in person.

Decisions, decisions…

'_She's fine, Charles. Everyone else is just fine, I promise.'_

Of course she wasn't going to tell him; at least, not yet. He had enough to deal with already, and Allicia was in no mood right now to take another one of his panic-attacks; they hurt like _crazy_.

'_Good,' _he said, letting go of a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding.

There was another pause as they both just sat there, letting everything sink in, until she realized something...

'_Um, Charles?'_

'_Yes?'_

'_Exactly where are you, anyway? I just thought of that…'_

'_Oh, right. Well, I've actually just been informed that we've landed stateside, so we shouldn't be too much longer in heading back to you all. About another half an hour or so, I'd say.'_

She nodded to herself, glad to hear that they wouldn't all be separated for much longer.

'_Good to know,' _she thought, '_Thanks.'_

'_No,' _he corrected her, growing serious again, '_thank _you, _Allicia. I don't know what would have happened to the others had you not been there with them. You kept them safe…'_

She let out a hollow laugh, unwilling to accept praise she didn't feel she deserved.

'…_Not all of them,' _she reminded him cynically, thinking of Angel, and the men she hadn't been able to save. The ones she had felt die…

'_You did what you could,' _he told her firmly. '_Nothing less; and I'm grateful for that. So, _he said (and she could almost see his encouraging smile), _at the risk of sounding redundant, thank you.'_

She exhaled deeply, in an attempt to try and just let last night go.

_It's a new day; _she told herself_, what's done is done._

'_Quite right,' _Charles thought back –evidently having caught that even though she hadn't meant him to.

'Thank you_, Charles,' _she shot back at him, projecting a wry smile; a thought that really meant, _'Thanks, you can go now.'_

'_Alright', _he replied, taking the hint, '_I'm going. We'll see you soon, I suppose, yes?'_

'_Yep, sounds good boss. See ya then.'_

She heard him chuckle slightly at being called 'Boss', and then the connection faded out.

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><p>Once she had finished updating Charles, she managed to drag herself into the shower and tug on a change of clothes that <em>wasn't <em>spotted with other people's blood and covered in dust from the night before. That done, she left her room and walked up and down the corridor, knocking on everybody's doors to make sure they were at least up by then and getting ready for the day, and let them know that the others were on their way back.

"Charles called you?" Raven demanded indignantly, "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"He didn't, you know, _call_ me, exactly," Allicia told her, shrugging; "he woke me up with his telepathy. Nearly gave me a heart attack, too –all I heard was somebody screaming my name." She actually laughed a little at the memory. "I thought we were under attack again!"

Raven managed to laugh, too. "Yeah," she nodded, "sounds like Charles."

They were both smiling at the telepath's expense by the time the boys met up with them.

"Hey, how come you two look so happy?" Darwin asked, stretching his arms over his head as he did so.

"Oh, no reason," Raven said innocently, giving Allicia a look. The older woman winked at her, before bidding the guys good morning.

"Buon giorno ragazzi," she greeted them, earning a few puzzled looks from everybody but Hank.

"Buon giorno, Signora Picone," he replied, albeit with an American accent. All the same, she was impressed.

"You speak Italian?" she asked, quirking a curious brow.

"A little," he muttered, shuffling his feet awkwardly. He wasn't used to people looking at him like they all were now, especially since it wasn't all _that_ impressive –he only knew a few phrases. He was better at Spanish and Latin, really…

"Nice," Allicia told him with a smile, "although I think your accent needs a little work..."

He looked like he was going to respond, but Alex spoke over him.

"That's great and all, but do you think we could skip the lessons until after breakfast? I'm starving."

There was an overall echo of agreement –especially from Sean, who always seemed to be hungry, for some reason –so Allicia nodded, telling them to go ahead and see if the commissary was still standing, and followed alongside Darwin behind them, silently hoping that she'd at least be able to snag a cup of coffee.

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><p>Unfortunately, as they later found out, the wing of the building that housed the canteen had indeed been trashed by the explosion the previous night. Meaning now, the tentatively cheerful mood they'd all been in had pretty much dissipated, leaving them hungry, caffeine-deprived, and decidedly irritable. Not only that, but coroner vans had begun to arrive to haul away the body bags that had been carefully laid out in front of the ruined structure that morning. Without any type of distraction, the morbid sight was making them all deeply somber as they sat outside with their things, waiting for Charles, Erik, and Moira to show up.<p>

Fortunately, it wasn't long before they heard the slamming of car doors.

"Raven," Charles called out, running up to meet her as she threw her arms around him. Erik and Moira were right behind him, the latter staring up at the wreckage of what used to be the building's atrium in shock. Erik narrowed his eyes at the sight; he had been so _close _this time, only to have Shaw slip through his fingers, once again.

He_ always _did…

Meanwhile, Charles was addressing the grim huddle of young adults before him.

"We've made arrangement for you to be sent home immediately," he said.

Sean spoke up at that, his voice uncharacteristically hard.

"We're not going home."

"What?" Charles asked.

The ginger gestured to Alex. "He's not going back to prison."

To which the blonde added, "They tried to kill us!"

"All the more reason for you to leave," Charles replied adamantly, "This is over."

Raven looked at her brother as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"He _killed_ people, Charles," she said quietly, though loud enough that they all heard her clearly, "and we couldn't even stop him."

Silence fell as the reality of her statement set in. Charles didn't seem to know how to respond to what his sister had said, given that he knew there was truth to her words. Moira was devastated to see what had become of her fellow agents, most of whom were now deceased. Allicia couldn't think of what to say, considering the fact that if she told them that she actually _could_ have stopped Shaw, Erik would probably –no, would _definitely_ kill her.

Still, they couldn't just let him get away with this, especially since the man was still plotting to start a third World War. She had to give it to the kids on this one.

"She's right, Charles," she agreed, much to his surprise. And frustration.

"Allicia, a word, please," he said in a clipped tone, sounding like a mother getting ready to scold her child. He stepped just out of the other's hearing before turning to her, and she could tell he wasn't happy.

"What are you playing at?" he questioned furiously, "You saw what happened last night; how can you possibly think their staying here is a good idea?"

She considered her predicament, before immediately going on the defensive.

"Charles, those men _died _for us," she reminded him, "Are we really just going to let that pass?"

"No."

Both of them looked to Charles' other side to see Erik standing there as well, appearing fairly impassive about the whole situation; although to be fair, with the shades he had on, she couldn't see his eyes to tell what he was _really_ thinking. Regardless of his reasons or intentions for Shaw, however, it meant he was actually _agreeing_ with her.

Eh, she'd take it.

"Erik," Charles said, narrowing his eyes at his (traitorous) friend, "they're just kids –".

"–No," Erik replied, pulling off the glasses to look Charles dead in the eye, "they _were_ kids; Shaw has his army, we need ours."

The young professor sighed, seeing he was going to be overruled no matter what at this point. He turned back to face the group of mutants (and Moira) again. Allicia and Erik exchanged a glance, wondering what he was thinking.

"We'll have to train," he told them, "All of us. Yes?"

They all perked up significantly at that.

"Yeah," Alex said eagerly, nodding with the others. But they all turned to look back at Hank as he spoke up from behind them.

"But we can't stay here," he pointed out to them, "even if they re-open the department; it's not safe." His face fell a bit at having to play Johnny Raincloud. "We've got nowhere to go."

They all deflated somewhat. That _did_ present a problem…

Suddenly, though, Charles got an idea. He looked over at Raven, who, once she caught his eye, seemed to see just what he was thinking. The siblings shared a knowing glance, and Charles smiled.

"Yes we do…"

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**~Till Next Time ;)**


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